


Sweet Flippin' Newlyweds

by ceilingfan5, Waywardwitchcat



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Canon Lesbian Relationship, Child Death, Electricity, Established Relationship, F/F, Fantasy Racism, Honeymoon, Kidnapping, Necromancy, Non-Human Genitalia, Ritual Murder, competent lesbians, they're just so in love forever you guys, xeno genitals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-23
Updated: 2018-10-16
Packaged: 2019-07-16 03:07:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 26,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16077080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ceilingfan5/pseuds/ceilingfan5, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Waywardwitchcat/pseuds/Waywardwitchcat
Summary: Their honeymoon was SUPPOSED to be spent on a beachfront property with fruity cocktails that had those little umbrellas and not looking at anyone but each other-But Lucretia asked VERY nicely.





	1. There's Just SO MUCH MUD

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Friction, Patience, Enthusiasm](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14135796) by [ceilingfan5](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ceilingfan5/pseuds/ceilingfan5). 



> Everyone's favorite competent lesbian team! For explanations re; xeno genitalia, please visit ceilingfan5's LOVELY fic 'Friction, Patience, Enthusiasm.'
> 
> All 8 chapters are written and will be published as we finish editing them. Thank you for leaving kudos and comments!!

The thing was, the  _ thing was _ that Carey kept coming back to,  _ the THING WAS- _   
  
It was  _ still _ their honeymoon.   
  
She watched Killian's shoulders as she marched ahead of her on the muddy, slippery, rain washed, gods-blighted, half sheep-track the locals called a  _ road _ , and tried not to grind her teeth too much.   
  
_ Yes, _ Lucretia had been so apologetic as to be almost in tears, and  _ yes, _ they were getting paid for this after, and their trip extended,  _ but still _ .   
  
"I hope I find the specific asshole responsible for this so I can break  _ all _ his teeth," she grumbles, not really meaning Killian to hear

 

"Only if I don't pound him into a  _ fucking _ pulp first."

 

Killian was weathering the rain and the mud and had even handled the beginning of the whole situation pretty decently, but she didn't have much of a hold on her temper, and she had simple needs. Just a few days ago they had been dancing with friends and sipping champagne and now HERE THEY WERE in this godsforsaken fuck zone of a goddamn mission and not on the Sword Coast, sipping fancy drinks with too much sugar in them and necking in public because newlyweds just sort of got a pass from most people on the whole PDA front. The longer this went on, the shorter her patience got, and the more she itched to break something into little pieces.

 

"Hey, we're married, you  _ legally _ gotta share that shit with me now, Kills," Carey's tail twitched as she dodged an innocent looking stone that would have probably twisted her ankle, considering their luck so far. "So, apparently we're due an inn, like..... _ right now _ , but fuck if I can see anything in this weather, how's your night vision?"

 

Killian shielded her eyes and squinted ahead. There wasn't much point, between the rain coming down and the night falling and the hidden moon, which all just sort of stacked up against them with an almost palpable dramatic spite.    
  
"No use."   
  
She reached out and picked Carey up with one hand, which was at least a little comforting, but as soaked through as she was, Killian was probably just as cold as Carey.  Her hair was plastered to her, sticking to her face and getting in her mouth, and if she could have punched the sky, she might've. Even the brief had been pretty useless, although maybe that was because Killian only had eyes and ears for her WIFE, which she was still thinking and saying as dramatically as possible because, honestly, it wasn't a dream she ever expected to come true, but the fact remained that she wasn't even sure who the fucking enemy was here, and it was just as much of a mystery as her surroundings. And Killian fucking hated not knowing what was going on.

 

Carey scrambled up Killian's shoulder, and peered down the road from there, "I think.....okay, I  _ might _ be seeing a light, but it also might be wishful thinking."

  
She peered down at her  _ wife _ (!!), gnawing the side of her cheek, "Wanna keep going another, mmmm, ten minutes before bunking down?"   
  
It occurred to her that the last time she heard Killian with this much of a constant growl in her voice was That One Candlenights. Which meant  _ she _ couldn't be grumpy, you couldn't have  _ everyone _ in a partnership being grumpy at each other at the same time.    
  


That was like...in the marriage rules. Or maybe it was something Boyland had said once.   
  
Wow, okay, take twenty seconds to breath past  _ that _ little bit of welling grief, thanks brain.   
  
"If we don't see the light getting bigger by then we can find a nesting spot and make a fire."

 

"...Yeah, alright." Killian took some comfort in gripping Carey's ankles. They had each other, and they were both awesome and tough as hell. Killian had been through worse. And, some small consolation, the longer they spent on this stupid trip, the longer they could spend on their Real Honeymoon.    
  
"Dunno how we'll pull off a fire in this, though."

 

"We'll figure it out, I have some starters in my pack somewhere," Carey wriggles until she fits comfortably against Killian's shoulder, tail draping down her back.   
  


The walk is not  _ fun _ and does not get  _ easier _ , but somehow touching and letting the other know they're there makes the walk slightly better.    
  
It takes eight minutes and thirty seconds before the light down the road grows strong enough that Carey whoops and tugs at Killian's braid, "I spyyyy with my roguish eyyyyyye, an  _ INN _ with a  _ ROOF! _ "

 

"Hot diggity shit. Fucking finally." Killian steps up the pace, as much as she can slogging through this muck that'll be very hard to get off her cool boots. Partially to show off how little Carey weighs and how strong and tough and great she is. Partially because she would do anything to get these soaked clothes off, all cold and clinging and rubbing. At least Carey doesn't have to worry about her circulation.    
  


"You think they've got that, uhh, jacuzzi we requested? In our honeymoon suite~?"   
She has to force herself to not be bitchy, but she knows if she can get Carey started, Carey will cheer her up. Fuck, Killian would die for her.

 

"If they  _ don't _ I'm dumping half a bottle of bubbles in the bath and just  _ fuckin chilling _ ," Carey tries not to wriggle too much, her tail coming up to wrap loosely around Killian's neck, but she is  _ so _ damp and it's oppressive.   
  
The inn is large and sprawling, the yard has only a few stable hands hanging under a lean-to and smoking. They all jump in surprise when Killian looms out of the dark at them, and Carey probably doesn't help her silhouette much, especially with her night vision eyes flashing in the dark. Wriggling, she jumps off, and bounds up to the nearest one, a half-elven dude who looks the cleanest,   
  
"Yo, we have a room for Fangbattle? I know we're late for check in, but, uh, there was......stuff."

 

"I hope they even have a bath," Killian mutters, watching and wondering how Carey can still have such a spring in her step.   
  
"Uhhhh. Uh. Uh. Right." It takes the leader a second to recover, and he squirms while Killian glares at him. "The one room, right? With the one bed?"

 

"YEP, and you guys have private bathrooms, right? Cause, uuuuuuh, dunno if you noticed, but there's a  _ shit ton _ of mud out there?"   
  
The stable hand glances between her and Killian, still unsure, "Right, right, yeah we have that.....you guys sure about the single bed-"   
  
"Oh my  _ gods _ , my  **dude** , just...let us check in and eat, for fuck's sake." Carey snaps.

 

"We're married it's cool-" Killian says, all in a rush, and miraculously she can feel her cheeks heating a bit even though they've been together for ages, they've slept together, they were fucking joined in a goddamn union just a bit ago-   
  
"And we're in love and together, with each other-"    
  
She wants to punch herself in the face. As cold as her hands were, though, she was afraid her knuckles would crack.    
  
"Yeah, uh," The stable hand drawls. "Aaaalright. If you think you can fit, I guess.". He and his buddies pointedly stare at Killian. Killian stares right back, letting the soulless, empty rage in her heart shine through.    
  


“It’s just we don’t HAVE many...people of your type...around here, anymore.” One of the other men, possessing only five teeth, speaks up, his tone clear even though his articulation isn’t.

 

" _ WOW _ , with your  _ amazing _ customer service, who knows why? You're wasted handling all the horseshit out here, bud. Where's check in."   
  
The combination of Killian's rage and Carey's most dead-eyed lizardy stare wilts the stable hand enough to have him pointing towards the front door with a mumbled, "....You can leave your shoes for cleaning inside..."   
  
" _ Thanks _ ." Carey reaches back for Killian's hand and tugs her through the door, ignoring the muttering behind them and lunging into  _ warmth and light and the smell of bread, holy fucking shit _ .   
  
A half-elven woman looks up from a desk and her eyes go wide as they flick over the two of them, and Carey interrupts whatever it was she was about to say.   
  
"Fangbattle? Your horseshit-shover outside said our room was still available."   
  
The woman's mouth snaps shut and she gives them a tentative smile, "Y...yes? Did, um, did you want to eat in the dining room? We also do room service...."   
  
Her eyes widen and she brings up her hands, "Not that you wouldn't be welcome! In the dining room! It's just that- um, I mean, it's so muddy outside, and-"

 

"No, thank-you." Killian puts a lot of aggression in each syllable. "I've seen more than my share of people today, and I want to get out of the rain, don't you,  _ babe _ ?"    
  
She wants to melt in the heat, in the smell of food and the safety of the shelter and the huge fucking relief of the waterboarding being over, but now she's on edge. Not that she shouldn't have expected it. Part of her is embarrassed she has to drag Carey through this, and part of her is too grumpy and miserable to give a fuck. If she gets delayed any longer, she's going to prove some godsdamn stereotypes, and fuck the consequences.

 

The woman looks like she is about to wilt into the floor and Carey sighs, squeezing Killian's hand,   
  
"Room service would be great actually, thanks. Can you send, uhhhhh, three of whatever your main stuff is, and like. Just a fuck load of bread.  _ Please _ tell me the bathroom is private."   
  
This seems to give the woman something to latch onto and she smiles too-brightly at both of them, "Absolutely! Let me show you to your suite, and you can leave your boots here. We'll mark them with the room number."   
  
The walk to the staircase leads them past the door to the dining room, which echoes with the sound of conversation and the brief strains of a bard playing a lute. Carey glances towards it, then to Killian and raises an eye ridge,   
  
"We should see about talking to them about, uuuuuh, the  _ thing _ later...."

 

" _ Very _ later. I am peeling all of this shit off as soon as possible. I can't feel my feet. I barely got my boots off. I want to lay with my wife and sleep for fifty hours and then Lucretia's shit can come back AFTER I can feel my toes."   
  


“Fair enough,” Carey snickers, in full agreement.    



	2. Bread Bread Wine

KIllian finds their door and jams the key in, barely getting the door open. It's a debate whether to flop on the bed first or peel off all of her wet-ass nasty clothes and armor. She hopes it won't rust, ‘cause no way in hell is she fucking cleaning it tonight.

 

Carey hums at her and turns to slip their guide a tip, "A metric fuck load of bread, please and thanks. Make it four of everything."  
  
Lucretia was paying for this one, so who the fuck cared anyway.   
  
Once she has firmly shut the door and dropped her pack with a loud sigh, Carey goes over to help peel damp wool and linen off Killian,   
"So, I'm all about sleeping for fifty hours, but I'm thinking? Bath first. Like, as hot as we can possibly get it."

 

Killian can't help but let out a little moan of relief and anticipation. She feels silly just standing there but her fingers are cold and useless and Carey looks so sweet attending to her like she's some kind of ancient Queen. Which. Is something to file away for later.   
  
"Bath please. I'm so, so, so down for a bath. So down, Carey. Look me in the eye. I need this so bad."   
  
She shifts to give Carey more access and her socks squish messily on the floor. It's entirely unsexy.

 

Carey giggles, tail flicking and splashing droplets across the room, "I need to soak for an hour and get oiled after or I'm gonna flake like a.....I dunno, basic bitch, whatever, I don't know where that metaphor was going. Let's see how much they can brag about that tub."  


  
The tub was brag-worthy.

  
Some seven feet across and four foot deep, it would have been a small pool for a family of halflings or gnomes, and dominated the bathroom. Carey turns the hot spigot as far as it would go before looking at the toilet, "I'll arm wrestle you for first dibs at that."

  
"I............................THINK I'm going to cry."  


"Aw babe, don't _cry_ cause then _I'M_ gonna cry, and we won't be able to appreciate the whole thing....."

  
As fun as arm wrestling Carey usually is, Killian just lets her go ahead. She finishes getting the last of her clothes off and hopes she packed a proper change of clothes in her bag of holding. It was a wedding present, and it's hideous, but at least it's going to make this whole thing a bit easier. She's hit with a powerful desire to just put her pajamas on, but THAT BATH!!!!!!!!!!   
  
She reminds herself to be a little less rude with Lucretia next time they talk, since this is clearly on her.   
  
And then she looks for bubble liquid.

  
Waiting for the tub to fill up and answering nature's insistence at least gives keeps them occupied enough for Carey to hear the knock at the door before they both plunge into the bath. Answering the door in nothing but her shorts, she sees two small, _extremely_ elven kids pushing a food cart, steaming with amazing smells.   
  
"Holy fuck- uh, 'fudge'. You guys? Are the _best_ . Can we just....keep that?"   
  
They look at each other and shrug, pushing the cart into the room. They nearly leave before Carey pushes coins into their palms, with a, "Hey, tell the grownups ‘don't disturb until noon’ or something, hey?"

 

They look at each other again, and one of them puts their hands on their hips.  
  
"Well, it might be hard to remember, you know, which room you're in, cause there's so many rooms..."   
  
"Maybe if you could help our memories...?" The other one chimes in and it's weirdly familiar. Taako and Lup would love them.

 

Carey narrows her eyes and holds up two more coins, these silver instead of copper, "Take these so I can enjoy my honeymoon, assholes."  
  
The kids accept the silver and run out giggling.   
  
Carey sniffs around the cart, feeling drool starting at the smells, and raises her eye ridges at the bottle of wine included on top.   
"Well _shit_...."

  
"BAAAABE, I FOUND BATH SALTS."   
  
Pushing the whole thing into the bathroom, she grins toothily at Killian, "Bet I found something better ~ "

 

Killian turns, fully naked, the blood finally finding her extremities again. In the same breath, she's beautiful and reminiscent of a wet cat.   
  
"It had better be a good fuckin' excuse if it's gonna keep me out of the water any longer."

 

Carey runs her eyes up and down Killian, her nonexistent lips pulling back from her teeth in a hungry grin,  
  
"I mean....it's food, so it can come before or after...."   
  
Her tail is twitching low and rhythmic as she sweeps a lid off a dish and bows dramatically, " _IF_ madam wants the soup, of _course_."

 

"Ohhhhh, fuck……..Oh, Carey, _fuck._ I'm really in a bind here. How am I supposed to decide? Food, a bath, my wife..."   
  
Dramatically she pretends to suddenly get an idea.   
  
"Here's a thought." She's in a better mood already. "We get in the bath _together_ AND eat. And drink wine. The wine is very important. I will share it out of the bottle with you if I have to."

 

Carey tilts her head as if in thought and nods very slowly, "Holy fuck, Kills, you're an absolute _genius_ ."   
  
Dragging the cart as close to the tub as it will physically go, Carey makes a show of carefully pouring glasses out for them both, "I think these will fit our faces better than the bottle, though." She sticks her tongue out and rolls her eyes, even as she puts them in careful reach of the tub rim.   
  
"Okay, babe, you gotta get in first because there's NO way I'm not laying on you after this shit show of a day."

 

Killian can't help but grin. A bit of flattery can be the sweetest balm.   
"Guuuuuuess that means you'll have to feed me. Aw durn. Plus, you didn't object to drinking out of the bottle that time at the Chug n' Squeeze~."

  
"Okay, but that teacher was being an ass and deserved it," Carey says, lunging, albeit playfully, at her bride.

  
Killian gets in the water before Carey can punch her, some of the water and bubbles spilling over the sides as she sinks into it with abandon. She lets out a low moan, the water almost too hot, but she's come too far to chicken out. The tall lavender bubbles and the sweet oils in the water make it almost, almost worth all the trouble.   
  
"Still thinkin' about cryin’. I'll let you know."

 

Carey hums and slips head first into the water after her, a stream of bubbles following her nose as the heat of the water washed over her and slowly works its way into her joints. One push of her arms and she’s laying on top of Killian, nose poking through the layer of bubbles and chin resting on one of Killian's boobs.  
  
"Shit.....okay I decided.....I'm not moving for the next, uuuuuuuuuuh, ten days....."

 

Killian laughs and pulls her into a floaty hug. She nuzzles her, getting bubbles on her face, and when she laughs again, the bubbles sputter everywhere.   
  
"Hey, Care. Care, guess what."

"Y'r gonna make me move?" Carey nuzzles up under Killian's chin and leaves a small trail of nibbles along her jaw.

"No. No, no, no no." She laughs, incapable of resisting with Carey right on top of her. It's hard to in the best of times, but at the moment she's drifting away in the warmth after a day of cold wet hell.   
  
"We're fucking married."

" _Fuck yeah_ , we're _wives_ and shit...."

 

Killian laughs and squeezes her tight in a hug, "Wives!!!!!! Holy shit!" She caresses Carey's cheek, her own face split wide in a shining grin.

  
It's very hard to concentrate on the various needs of a mortal body when she's surrounded by hot water and wrapped up in Killian's arms. Carey nuzzles down Kill's neck, across her collarbone, and runs her tongue over her boob.   
  
"Hmmmm..........what if we just stayed here.....forever.....I asked for fresh bread an’ _everything_......"  
  
"Man, when you warm up, you warm up, huh? Can we eat first?"

"Please yes, put the carbs _in my mouth_....." Carey rolls one eye towards the food cart and reaches a single hand out to the bread basket, "I don't wannnaaaaa get the nasty dirt water on the bread...."

 

"You're _terrible_ ." Killian dries her hands off on a towel and then wedges it, pillow-like, behind her head. The loaves are gorgeous, golden and crispy and hollow and when she breaks one in half, a picture perfect cloud of steam comes out. She takes a huge bite, savoring the crunch and the shattering of the crust, flakes getting into the bath water, but there are worse things.   
  
"Fuuuuuuuuck." She moans, part show and part legitimate, and takes another loud bite. "Carey, it's Sooo Good."

 

Carey bites at her neck, a loud ‘nom’ ing noise to prove its more for show than anything, and dries a hand on the towel behind Killian’s head, “Uuuuuugh, you biiiiiiiiiiiiiitch......” Reaching out a hand, she grabs a loaf for herself. The floating bread crumbs on the tub aren’t any worse than the dirt flaking off Killian at this point.   
  
“Fuckshit, okay. Four stars on fantasy yelp. Two for the bath, two for the bread. Negative one for the racist jackass insulting my _wife._ ”

 

Killian laughs, "You say that like it's a big deal. I'm just glad we aren't trying to start a soggy ass fire under a rotting tree."   
  
Taking Carey's cue, she finishes her bread, pulling the soft bits from the middle and then savoring the snappy crust. She could take or leave dinner at this point, as long as there's real bread.

 

Carey growls as she attacks the heel of her bread loaf, “S’MY wife, no two bit horse shit pusher named fuggin.... Jimothy.... s’gonna insult her......”

Killian snorts, "Jimothy. The traditional human name."

 

The back of Carey’s mind suggests that the soup and meat sitting on the cart shouldn’t be left out all night. The forefront of her mind kicks that part in the ass and screams for bread and also not moving. Finishing loaf one, Carey pushes her snout up against Killian’s jaw again and hums contentedly.

 

"Don't you fall asleep on me, again, literally. You always do this.” Killian pokes her half-heartedly. “That soup smells so good and I can't reach it with you- on me-"  
  
She doesn't leap to push Carey off, either. She's no source of body heat, even as Killian is still warming up (she can almost feel her toes again), but the weight is so fucking comforting. After an exhausting day, it seems silly to take so much comfort in it. They were side-by-side the whole time, so it's not like she was aching for her wife's presence. But.   
  
Shit, it's so nice. It's so fucking nice to be with her, to feel her, to listen to her laugh and tease her and break bread with her.   
  
"I think I made the right choice." It's more to herself than an out-loud definitive statement, but it's filled with so much love it just aches.

 

“Well _duh_ , I’m fuckin _fantastic_ ,” Carey flicks out her tongue along Killian’s jaw, affectionately and grips the side of the tub to pull herself up with a groan. “Okay, the water and tub and shit is amazing? But also we, uhh, kinda are sitting in mud now.”   
  
She looks sadly at the no longer clear water around them.   
  
“Wanna eat while it drains for round two?”

 

Killian groans dramatically, hefting herself out after Carey. She'd be a little embarrassed at the level of nastiness in the tub if she weren't so relieved to no longer feel like a shit monster.   
  
"Yeah, that...sounds really good." She doesn't even bother to dry most of herself off, just sits on the edge of the tub and drains a whole glass of wine. The heat from the bath and the satisfaction of the bread and the company is already building a nice buzz.   
  
"Do I look better now?" Killian poses cheekily before she fills another glass with wine.

 

Carey scrambles up to kiss her cheek and beam at her, “You look as fucking adorable as you always do, babe.” Reaching over to load a plate with soup and what looks like pot roast, her nostrils flare appreciatively, “But like, I’m not saying you don’t look cuter when you’re all warm and happy.”  
  
She makes a mental note to comb Killian’s hair out before they actually sleep, when the flavor of food hits her and her stomach starts screaming at her.

 

Killian flushes and grins and serves herself instead of making a cheesy comeback.  It's so good to finally eat, and she takes her fill, glad Carey ordered more than two human-sized servings.

 

The water drains in the time it takes for them both to eat their first serving, and Carey grimaces at the film of mud left behind.   
  
“Maybe we shoulda showered first or something,” even as she says it, she knows she wouldn’t give that first submersion up for anything like _practicality_ .   
  
And anyway, rising the tub out until it’s clear means there’s enough time for Killian to actually eat enough on the second go-round, and Carey to be nicely light headed half way through her second glass of wine.

  
The tub fills for real and Carey munches on another bread roll as she pokes through the shampoos on offer,  “Hey baaaabe? Love, sweetie, delight of my life? Can I wash your hair and you oil me up afterward and we call it even?”

 

"Aw fuck, I spilled wine on my tits..."  
  
Killian looks up at Carey, at the cajoling grin on her perfect face, and matches it.   
  
"You just want to play with my hair, huh?" She tries to do a dramatic shampoo ad hair flip, but it all swings in one wet clump and makes a painful SWAK when it smacks her in the other cheek. She spits wet hair out of her mouth sheepishly.   
  
"Yeah, alright, if you _insist._ "

 

Carey holds a straight face for two seconds before she clutches the rim of the tub and laughs so hard she starts wheezing.   
  
“Oh my _gods_ , you’re perfect I love you, please don’t give yourself a concussion from your _hair_....”She trails off into giggles as she grabs a shampoo bottle and slides back into the tub, gesturing for Killian to join her, “Dump some more of that lavender stuff in, yeah?”

 

Killian can't help but snicker at her own expense.   
  
"Remember that time on Candlenights when it froze solid and that robot lasered a chunk off? Fuck, I was so mad."   


“Ugh, right, and Brad had to trim it for you and was so smug about it.”   


"Smug bastard. He sure got his when he made the mistake of trying to join the boner squad at that fuckin' work retreat."

 

She pours the rest of the bottle in the tub, _accidentally_ getting some on Carey, and adds some vanilla for good measure. It's a delicate process to step back into the tub, trying not to squish Carey, but she maneuvers her way in and lets out a great deal of air pressure.   
  
"It's even better the second time..."   
  
Carey smears the scented oil over her chest with a satisfied grin at the smell, and presses against the tub wall until Killian leans back and she can wrap her legs around her wife’s chest. Comfortably caught in place, she runs her claws through the long, thick locks of hair, cooing softly as enough of the dirt and sweat rinses out that she can start rubbing shampoo in.   
  
“I think I’m still seeing some glitter in here from the wedding, babe. I told you not to stand too close to Taako.”

  
Killian laughs.   
  
"He got me! I was trying not to cry, and he was like, look at me, and he blew this huge cloud of glitter at me and I was so busy trying to pummel him that I didn't actually cry until- Until I saw you standing there- at- all, smiley and shit... and, fuck-"   
  
She sniffles and tries to discreetly and unsuccessfully wipe her nose.   
  
"Fuck, Care. I'm so...fucking in love with you."

 

Carey tugs her claws through Killian’s hair until she tilts it back so Carey can kiss her forehead,   
  
“Babe, that’s so _gay_ .”   
  
She runs her cheek down along Killian’s temple, claws till tugging her hair as she almost tries to press them into one person.   
  
....it’s not exactly a comfortable position, but her throat has gone tight and talking is harder than touch.   
  
“.....M’love _you_.”

 

Killian makes a tea kettle sort of noise and pulls her just short of bone-crunchingly close. They still had each other. They still had each other. No shit day could conquer them, no muddy toes or jackass humans or whatever fucking mission Creesh deigned to send them on. They were a fucking power couple.   
  
The position was awkward, but Killian gets swept up in a sudden desire to kiss every inch of Carey she could reach, and nothing, no force in the world could stop her.

 

Carey unwrapped her legs from Killian’s chest and wriggles forward, tail thrashing in the water to change her position to laying on _top_ of her wife ( _her wife!!!!_ ) .   
  
Shoving her face forward, she rubs a cheekbone along one of Killian’s tusks, humming deep in her chest.

 

Killian laughs and nuzzles back, careful not to gouge her bride. It was amazing to learn every intimate detail of a person you loved, a person so completely different from yourself. Cultural exchange, in bed. Carey learned to 'kiss' and Killian learned how to nuzzle, although she often fucked up which was the sweet public way and which was the extremely horny way. It all worked for her, and making Carey giggle self-consciously was worth the social flub. Not that there were any more dragonborns than orcs in these parts.   
  
Killian stroked her spines all the way down to as much tail as she could reach, grinning cheekily at her.

 

Carey squeaks happily, tail coming up to wrap along Killian’s forearm and squeeze, her nuzzle changing to kisses and licks up Killian’s jaw line.   
  
“Mmmm, still need cleaning up here, looks like....” Killian’s hair is still lathered and thick with shampoo, Carey notices as she runs her claws through it again and tugs.

 

Killian leans into it and sighs, appreciating the great care Carey was putting into not lacerating her skull. She could fall asleep to that at the best of times, and here she was, bone-tired and heated to the core.   
  
But. But she didn't want to go to sleep just yet. She knew the next day would be more hard and thankless work, and that this was a waning opportunity to be with her wife in good spirits, and she wanted to make good use of their time together and the lovely heavy way the wine was settling into her good senses.

 

Carey runs her tongue along Killian’s neck and snorts at the palpable shift in her smell as her focus sharpens, “Tip your head back, babe? Wanna rinse this stuff out.”   
  
Grinning, Carey squeezes water through the thick locks until the only texture is wet hair, “If you’re gonna be all _horny_ about it, gotta make sure you’re done with your beauty regime.” She follows this up with a proper kiss on the mouth, more teeth and tongue than lips, but fully passionate.

 

"Mmmmhm." Killian just smiles and matches kiss for kiss. "Can't get anything past you, huh?"   
  
It's so easy to fall in love, again and again and again.   
  
"Don't act like you aren't too. I see you getting frilly."

 

"Oh shit, I been found out," Carey giggles and nips a trail down Killian's neck, pausing to slowly and carefully suck a bruise at the curve where her shoulder started, "You gonna help out there?"  
  
Her claws left Killian's hair reluctantly, tracing down her soft warm skin to her breasts, retracting as far as she could get them to go before kneading gently. It wasn't a high priority place to get Killian worked up, but she _liked_ them; liked their shape and weight and the heat they radiated whenever she curled up next to Killian.

 

Killian thought it was fucking hilarious. Usually she didn't think much at all about her body, tits included, but Carey acted like they were the greatest gift she'd ever been given. Or taken for herself. It was just so cute, really.   
  
But she could get Carey back.  Her upper spines were rigid, but the closer to her tail, the more sensitive they got. What helped her keep her balance on dangerous rooftops was also one of her biggest weaknesses. And the underside was so soft, too, especially after she'd eaten, and since Killian didn't have much in the way of nails at all, it was very, very easy to tickle her.

 

Carey shuddered, feeling Killian’s blunt fingertips tracing their way down with a purpose, and took her mouth away from her neck, just in case.   
Killian didn’t even need to actually _reach_ the especially sensitive areas. Just rubbing alongside them was enough to get Carey’s tail flipping, splashing water over the rim of the tub, and making her frill pull away from her neck.

 

"Every time you warm up, you're all over me. What are we going to do in the winter, start a cam service?" Killian laughs, just as hearty and true as the first time. Positioning is tough in the small bath, but it's not too hard to find a sensitive spot to tease. When Carey gets going, she's all sensitive spots.

 

Carey’s ruff pushes at Killian’s chest as Carey squirms into her touches.  
  
“Just hafta get a heat blanket and hibernate on you, oops, months of cuddles- _shit!_ ” she whines, tail thrashing under the water, as she wraps her legs around Killian’s waist. The instinct to grind down while also press up against her wife’s hands was confusing and _too mean_.

 

Killian doesn't let up, instead kissing under her ruff and running her tongue along the sensitive underside that was usually protected. Her scales are so soft there, it’s tantalizing.   
  
"You smell good," Killian murmured. "Should we get out? The water's nice, but I want to make you come over and over again, and I don't _fancy_ being electrocuted..."

  
"Y-yeah, yeah, fuck, sounds like a plan," Carey rubs her cheek against Killian's _hard_ before pulling back and clambering out of the tub and reaching for a towel,   
  
"S'long as I get to return the favor, babe."


	3. Cultural Exchange In Bed

The towels are fluffy and big enough to engulf Carey and be slightly too small for Killian, but at least there's a lot of them. Carey dries off and hands off a long one for Killian to wrap her hair in. Her ruff is still up, and her tail twitches increasingly faster as she backs up towards the bedroom, not willing to look  _ away _ .    
  
Killian is  _ so _ big, and the water running off her emphasizes all her hard lines that tell everyone she’s a  _ badass _ and the softer curves that only Carey gets to see,  _ really _ . Mammals have a weird obsession with clothing and all, but she had learned to like that some areas were only for Killian to share with her.   
  
Speaking of those areas, Carey's tongue flicks out and catches the musky sharp tang that said she had gotten Kills worked up good and proper, and she grins with all her teeth.

 

"You look absolutely predatory." Killian wraps her hair up carefully, not willing to get whapped in the face a second time. Heat was in the air now, though, and not just the literal steam from the hot bath. She's gotten all of her color back and then some, a healthy and enthusiastic green showing what Carey could already taste on the air. There was no place for subtlety here.    
  
She poses in the doorway after toweling most of the water off, giving Carey a cheeky stare. Watching her already puffed up was only telling of what was to come.   
  
"Did they get the rose petals and scented candles we ordered?"

 

Carey's grin relaxes into fondness, " _ Yeah _ they got your romantic shit, you  _ goober _ . Didn't really set it out for us, though." She threw a hand to her forehead, reaching the other out to Killian,  "Leaving  _ all _ the work to  _ us _ , what _ ever _ will we  _ do- _ "

 

Killian laughs and scoops Carey up in her arms. She can already feel the tingle under her skin, the static building up and making her blood rush in her ears.    
  
She gives Carey a load of kisses and throws her down on the bed, losing her towel comically in the process. It slips down, coming unpinned from one armpit, but Killian only has eyes and hands for HER WIFE.

 

Carey wriggles under the attack of affection, trying to touch and be touched everywhere at once; flopping on the bed sends a _whoosh_ of air out of her lungs, but she's up and reaching again, tugging Killian's towel off and pressing up against her _warm_ and _strong_ and _beautiful_ and _amazing_ **wife**.   
  
Even after all this time, kissing doesn't come easy or natural; she's inclined to turn hers into nipping and licking, tasting along Killian's skin which tells her _all_ sorts of things about her wife's (!!) current state and helped a lot when she was learning all the places that made Killian squirm.  
  
Speaking of, with Killian standing and Carey on the bed....  
  
She reaches down and slides her claws (retracted) along the path of hair leading from Kill's belly button to the patch of wiry hair that still fascinates her with its texture, and presses down, not _quite_ where Killian would want her and tilts a smile upwards.

 

"You're terrible!" Killian pushes her back, not too rough, but not worried either. Carey can take it, doesn't mind it. If she treated Carey like a fragile maiden, she'd either laugh or punch her. Maybe both. "I had dibs!" 

 

She crawls on the bed and bodily hauls Carey backward, giving her access and opportunity. She's so beautiful and blue, so soft and exposed, and it's amazing that arousal has completely opened up what lay hidden before. But this isn't time for poetry, at least not the fancy, frou-frou kind. Hers might read more like:   
  
FUCK.   
_Fuck._   
MY **WIFE**  
(to whom I am married)  
You're perfect,   
I ache to fuck you,  
give me a taste of that   
sweet sweet lovin,  
 **Fuck!!!**  
  
......It's a work in progress. And a distraction. She covers her tusks with one hand and easily spreads Carey's legs with another, gripping and enjoying the muscle in her thighs, and tastes HER WIFE.

 

Carey squeaks and laughs at being hauled around, letting her thighs fall open and draping her tail around Killian's shoulders. As Killian licks into her, she shivers and sighs and flexes her tail, her hands running along Killian's thighs and pressing into them,   
  
"Gods, you're hot, babe."

 

"Yeah, and getting hotter..." She adores every part of Carey, but this part of her is probably the sweetest. Dragonborns are amazing, and their anatomy makes it extremely easy to appear like a sexual genius. So easy, so rewarding. Carey is so fucking easy to please, and Killian fucking loves to please her.    
  
She explores the tempting texture with her tongue, the familiar and stunning series of ridges, each more sensitive than the last, the taste and tingle of her arousal coating Killian's tongue. It's heady, nearly as much as the wine, and she can smell Carey's pheromones on the air.    
  
"I fuckin' love you," she gets out, before going right back in, sucking and teasing and forgetting herself very quickly.

 

"I love-  _ fuck-! _ I love youespeciallyifyoudothatagain,  _ shit, Kills- _ "   
  
Her legs are flexing against Killian's arms, her tail squeezing tightly along her shoulders, pressing thumbs into the meatiest parts of her thighs intending on leaving bruises.    
  
She can feel a charge building up under her skin, hopes Killian can smell the ozone, since all she can quite manage is a long whine before a charge ripples along her legs.   
  
" _ FUCK, babe- _ "

 

"Fuck..." Killian smells it, but she risks going in again for the sake of it. She's barely even started. Maybe it's a pride thing, but she dips her tongue back in, stroking with a finger all the fantastic ridges she can reach. She wants more, can't wait, can't be patient, and she grips Carey's thigh tightly in anticipation.

 

Carey's ruff flares up hard, and her grip tightens on Killian's leg and neck as she keens, throwing her head back against the mattress,   
  
"Shitshitshit _ shit- _ "   
  
Sparks dance over her slit and Carey arches up against Killian's mouth, panting.

  
  


Killian, to her credit, rides through it, but her hips twitch and when she pulls back, she looks a little surprised. Her pupils are wide and she lets out a breathless little laugh.   
  
"Fuck, I felt that one in my chest..." She licks her finger and sits back a little, catching her breath.    
  
"Fuck," Killian repeats. "I'm seeing stars."

 

Carey oozes off her, reaching her hands above her head to gain enough leverage to pull her legs and tail over her head and flip around to face Killian and crawl up into her lap, straddling her hips, tail swishing lazily. Just melting roguishly into a perfect position.   
  
"Thought that was a thing I was supposed to do with my  _ tongue ~ _ "    
  
She kisses Killian's mouth as softly as she can manage, licking down her chin and jaw to her neckline. Dazed, Killian kisses whatever she can reach, leaning into sensation and attention.    
  
"Too fast. I barely got to taste."    
  
Killian props herself up with a few pillows and, despite making protest sounds with her mouth, resigns to follow through on her promise to fuck Carey senseless in a bit. She wants to feel her tongue first.

 

“Oh nooooo, your fantastic mouth got me off in record tiiiiime,” Carey noses along Killian’s shoulders, her hands dropping lower and lower to investigate how wet she is, “Don’t forget you gotta oil me up later too ~”

 

"Mmm, I don’t know if any of that shit is edible..."   
  
She's loosened up significantly, and certainly warmed up.  The food, the wine, the bath, the company...she's having an excellent time and has completely relaxed. Catching Carey's intent, she spreads her legs wide: an invitation and a challenge. Already splotches of dark green show where Carey has been, her skin simultaneously tough and sensitive. It's soft in such a different way than scales, and she's well padded. More so now than before, since with the relics wrangled they've had a lot less to train for and a lot more wedding cake to taste.

 

“If you want to TRY using your tongue instead of your hands, I’m down, but I don’t think it’s gonna be as much fun as you  _ think _ ....”   
  
Carey slides her claws along Killian’s folds, teasing at them and running alongside her clits,    
  
“Hey, so how you wanting me tonight, babe?”    
  
She makes a few delicate pushes with her fingers, never very far past surface level.

 

Killian laughs, leaning back, finally relaxing after a day of cold wet bitter hell. They're in their element together.    
  
"Mmm... However you want. I trust you." She grins. "You didn't bring any toys, did you? We packed so fast..."

 

Carey grins broadly and hops off her and the bed,    
  
"AS a matter of fact...." She flips open a front pocket of her pack and digs down deep inside it until she comes up with an oil cloth bag, out of which she pulls a velvet one, "-I  _ did _ slip just the one in...."   
  
Crawling back over, she pulls out a long purple cylinder that comes to a soft curve. When she touches a rune on the base, it starts to vibrate.

 

"Ohhh, you're kidding!" Despite herself, Killian blushes a deep forest green, which goes all the way down her neck. "You carried that the whole fucking way?" She shifts and crosses her legs a little, but the continuing blush and the finger she hooks behind one of her tusks say it isn't a bad thing. "What...exactly...are you planning to do with that?"

 

“It didn’t add much weight, and I figured....” Carey trailed off and flicked at the rune through all the settings until it stopped. “Yeah so, it’s for fucking you ooooor me, deeepending. Uhmmmmm, probably safer than my claws for internal stuff, not gonna lie.”   
  
Carey’s neck and chest flush under her still raised ruff, running down her belly at this point.    
  
“Wanna give it a shot?”

 

"Yeah, no, yeah..." Killian laughs a little and tries to push her hair back, knocking the towel off. "I mean, babe, I love you. I do. But I've also seen you kill with those babies and I would like to keep my business with only the original, requisite holes, until I die a lovely and well-satisfied old lady-"   
  
She looks at the toy, and then Carey's eager but sweet, sweet face, ready to stop at a second's notice, and her heart swells. As does the rest of her.    
  
"Yeah, shit. I kinda do."    
  
If Carey can pick a fuckin' lock like no one's business, assuredly she can handle an orc's vagina.

 

Carey’s ruff raises even more and she darts forward to kiss Killian’s mouth and rub her cheek, “Okay! Okay,  _ cool _ , and there’s-“ she fumbles with the bag and comes up with a tiny bottle;  _ ‘Safe for all races!’ _  -just in case, y’know-“    
Pushing against Killian’s chest, she nuzzles harder, running her free hand downward and humming happily.

 

Killian kisses and nuzzles right back, relieved she didn't upset Carey, happy to feel the pressure of her cheekbones. It's so easy. She kisses Carey's neck, kisses the sensitive bits under her ruff, strokes her delicate spines and enjoys Carey's endearing fascination with her tits. It's distracting to see how aroused she still is, and Killian hungers to get right back in there, but a hot knot tightens more in her stomach the closer Carey gets.

 

Carey kisses and licks her way down Killian’s abdomen, leaving a few carefully made bruises along her stomach where it goes soft and round and adorable. She nuzzles at the hair between her legs and glances up, cheekily.   
  
“I  _ do _ have to get you ready first though ~”    
  
Darting her tongue out against the first fold always gets the others to unfurl and she sighs at how  _ pretty _ Killian is; all dark green shades fading to purple on the innermost ‘petals’, and easily-found clits peeking out from the middle, perfect for wrapping her long tongue around.   
  
Which she  _ does _ because admiration isn’t going to get her job done here.

 

Killian gasps and squirms, always stunned at how quickly Carey can undo her with that FUCKING TONGUE, DAMN it.    
  
"Oh, fuck- Care-" She tries not to grind her hips, but it's so easy to buck into it and Carey is so good... Killian doesn't even mind the bite of her claws. No one has ever unwound her like Carey has. Fancy that most people wouldn't think orcs could be so delicate on the inside. Ha.

 

Carey gives her an open mouthed smile as she dives further in, nosing along the edges of Killian’s petal-like labia, chirring at the back of her throat.    
She takes her time, enjoying the noises Killian makes, and about the time Carey judges she’s close to falling apart, she pulls away, licking her lips, “Think you’re ready?”   
  
She’s reaching for the toy and bottle as she says it, knowing her face is wet enough to be an answer.

 

Killian moans, nearly senseless, and mumbles an affirmative. She hooks her ankles on the sides of the mattress so she doesn't squash her  **wife** in the throes of passion. It brings to mind restraints..............Maybe next time. Maybe at home.    
  
Killian bucks her hips impatiently.   
  
"Carey- fucking- please-"

 

"That's the plan, babe," Carey applies the lube and places the toy at Killian's entrance before flicking the rune that activates it, intensely curious as to how this will actually work now she's down here,   
  
The toy hums, barely moving as she pushes it in, flicking her gaze to to Killian's face to keep checking in, "How's that then?"

 

Killian moans loud enough to rattle the walls. Fuck the neighbors, this is their pre-honeymoon honeymoon.    
  
"'M not- gonna- fh- last-"    
  
Her legs twist, but she can't do anything about it. Carey is in charge right now.

 

Carey flushes harder at the look on Killian's face and pushes the toy in farther, slowly, tilting it down so the bend of it presses against the inside of her walls,   
  
"Holy  _ fuck _ , babe, you look  _ amazing _ like this....."   
  
Her free hand runs up Killian's thigh and side, kneading, caressing, needing to touch  _ more _ .

 

She's covered with a glistening sheen of sweat, so fantastically mammalian. She'll need another shower before they go... but it's worth it.   
  
Killian gasps- "I'm- babe-"

 

"Yeah? Good, come  _ on _ , Kills, you're so good and gorgeous and-"  Carey runs out of words, bending down to lick once more around Killian's vulva, giving the toy a twist around as she does,  "Love you  _ so much _ , my big strong wife who's the best and brightest and loveliest  _ ever _ ."

 

It takes nothing at all to make Killian come, and she lets out an undisguisable bellow as she does, gripping the headboard so tight it cracks. She melts back against the pillows, shaking and sighing and starting to laugh, and she's so warm it seems to radiate from her. Messy beautiful.    
  
It takes her a bit to recover, but the first thing she does is caress Carey's face, so, so, so in love. Carey barely takes the time to shove the toy back in its bag before she's crawling up on top of Killian, pushing her face into her hand and kissing her as soon as she can reach, "Mmmmmmmgood? Something to play with more back home?"   
  
Her wife (!!!!!) looks so happy there, blissed out and hair spread around her face in a halo. Carey reaches up to comb it back, chirping a laugh.

 

"Mmmmmmmyeah..." Killian presses lazy kisses to whatever part of HER  _ WIFE _ she can reach, sloppy and happy. 

 

"I'm sorry babe, I-" She sighs again. Her hair is still a bit wet, but it's so lovely after all day of it mud-slogged and sad. "I'm exhausted...I'll have to follow through on my promise later, I think..."

 

"Oh noooooo, I'm putting it on your taaaaaab," Carey sprawls along Killian's torso, tail curling around as much of her thigh as it can reach, and kisses her softly.   
  
"Guess we'll have to use this bed Lucretia paid for all morning, maybe...."   
  
Killian was  _ so warm _ it was soaking into Carey's limbs and she yawned widely before tucking her head between her boobs.

 

Killian snorts,  "I was feeling bad, but it didn't take much encouragement for you to snuggle up, cuddle bug." In a Herculean effort against the demonic tug of post-coital comfort, Killian lifts the both of them up and pulls the blanket over them. She loves her tiny wife, so easy to hold in her arms and throw and kiss and drown in snuggles. They fit so perfectly together.  "I adore you, but if any force in the  _ universe _ attempts to wake me up before I've had eight hours, I will go into hellmurder beastmode and refuse to accept responsibility for any casualties."

 

“That’s hot.”   
  
Carey resnuggles herself, making sure she has as much scale to skin contact as she can to soak up as much warmth and wifesmell as possible. Killian’s breath is already slowing into sleep as she noses along her arm, humming.


	4. Hellmurder Beastmode

When a very loud noise wakes Killian up in the middle of the night, she is the  _ opposite of happy. _ She jolts awake and into panic mode, clutching at her wife and feeling desperately for a weapon that isn't under her pillow. This is a fucking hotel, not a campsite in gerblin territory, so why-? The high-pitched scream that comes next hurts her ears and it takes a second to click that this is why they're here.   
  
Damn it, Lucretia.

 

Carey goes from asleep to awake with nothing in between, a vague moment of panic that she can’t  _ sit up _ before she realizes that the arm pinning her belongs to Killian and there’s a  _ noise _ happening that she doesn’t like .    
  
“Wazzangonon-“   
  
The rain has stopped and the gibbous moon is splashing through their window as another scream sounds and under it is.... the noise of a flute?    
  
“Mmmdon  _ like _ that....”

 

"Whatever the fuck it is is going to eat my fucking fists," Killian growls, getting up and dragging Carey with her. She heads for the door and almost gets out before she remembers she's completely naked.    
  
"Motherfucker- where did you put my clothes?"

 

Carey flops to the floor and runs for the knives in her pack, less concerned with things like  _ pants _ ,    
  
“Against the fire grate, they were  _ sopping _ ,”   
  
Knife belt  _ acquired _ , she reaches for Killian’s pack and rummages until she finds a pair of pants and tosses it at her before darting for the door.

 

"Damn-"   
  
Killian throws on the pants and uh.....ties the sheet around her tits like a hot new fashion. That will probably be fine and have no repercussions whatsoever. She snags her crossbow and bolts and runs after her wife, ready to rain some judgement on a shitty asshole.

 

Running down the hallway, Carey catches glimpses of worried faces peering out of doorways, faces that go round with shock as they look behind her to the heavy footsteps that announced Killian. Most of them pull straight back in and shut the doors.    
  
Whatever.   
  
Sliding down the staircase gets Carey a look at the wide open door leading into the still muddy yard and the source of the screaming: the half elven desk clerk on her knees, screaming towards the open gate. A beam of moonlight shines down it, catching a glint on the hair of two figures dancing??? Down it.    
  
Well, that explained the flute music. Fucking  _ bards _ .    
  
“Get up and  _ follow them _ , cracked egg!” Carey snarls as she runs past the woman. Gods above, the  _ stupidity _ ....

 

Killian leaps down all of the stairs at once, landing thunderously and pushing on. She realizes a bit late that there's no way she can get her boots, and her list of demands for when they get back to the BOB doubles in size and aggression. She pounds after Carey--she's fast, but Killian has longer legs, and she's pissed. They’re going to need another goddamn bath.

 

The shaking earth under Carey’s feet as Killian catches up to her feels like Candlenights come early, and Carey grins with all her teeth as she chases the two small figures down the road. One bend and they’ll be lost, fuck, they need to catch up  _ now _ -   
  
“BABE,  _ fastball me! _ ”

 

"YOU GOT IT!"   
  
It's hard to grab hold of Carey when shes buckass naked, slippery like a dolphin in the continued drizzle. But they have practiced and practiced and practiced this, and it's as natural as kissing her to pick up Carey and HURL her at a bad guy. Or...Well, Killian can't see said guy, but assuredly Carey has a better perspective on the whole deal once she takes flight. It's hard not to pause and appreciate the beautiful arc she makes in the air, but Killian needs to keep up, and the slick mud under her feet forgives no mistakes.

 

Carey curls into a ball as soon as she feels Killian’s hand around her waist and twists in the air, just managing to catch a glimpse of a taller, adult figure ahead of the two child sized ones before she has to stick her legs out for a landing...   
  
...and then she really  _ really _ wangs it up. 

  
The mud skids under her feet and she feels one hit a rock and twist her ankle around.    
  


Yelping wordlessly in pain, she barely manages to curl into enough of a ball to not slam up against any of the trees on the road face first.

 

Killian sees her talented and majestic wife fall back to the world like a sexy comet and knows in her gut that she fucked up. She splits into doubletime, sprinting after Carey as fast as orcishly possible, cursing herself and her aim under her breath.    
  
No, no, no, no...no no no... no, fuck, no...   
  
She tries not to think of delicately snapped lizardy necks and prays as hard as she can to whatever goddess will listen that Carey survives their anti-honeymoon.

 

Carey slowly uncurls, feeling every bruise where her knife sheaths hit, and exactly where the ruts in the road were, and she groans.    
  
“Fuck  _ me _ ...”    
  
She turns her head towards the last drifting flute notes and sees a distinct lack of elven children and leans back against the tree that stopped her roll,    
  
“Aaaaaand fuck  _ that _ ....”   
  
She doesn’t open her eyes as Killian runs up, but instead puts on her best Madam Director impression,    
  
“I think we can  _ all _ agree...that was a world class boner.”

 

Killian is so relieved to hear her not only alive but also conscious that she gives a choked out little laugh-sob before picking her up. It's instinct to squeeze her until her bones crack, but Killian fights the impulse, instead checking for injuries.    
  
"Did you see them? Did you see where they went?"

 

Carey hisses as Killian brushes her ankle, wrapping her tail around her superb green forearm for balance instead.    
  
“Yeah, the kids and some adult, medium sized, human or elvish  _ probably _ . He had a cloak and hat on so who the fuck can tell.”    
  
There’s a shout from behind them and lights as a group from the inn finally starts catching up,    
  
“Motherfuck-“    
  
The stablehand from before reaches them first, red-faced and shaking the shovel in his grip, with a vile, “YOU LET THEM GET AWAY?”

 

Killian isn't very patient, and she isn't very happy. She turns around and punches him in the fucking face with such force that it launches twenty feet backwards, his body limply following.    
  
"ANYONE ELSE HAVE ANY CRITICISMS OR CONCERNS? BECAUSE AS I SEE IT, WE WERE THE ONLY ONES WHO EVEN WENT AFTER THEM AND WE DON'T HAVE JACK SHIT INVESTMENT HERE! WE ARE MISSING OUR  _ HONEYMOON _ TO SOLVE YOUR STUPIDASS PROBLEMS YOU PROBABLY MADE FOR YOURSELVES OUT OF THE  _ GOODNESS _ IN OUR HEARTS AND? I'LL BE HONEST WITH YOU? MY GOODNESS IS VERY QUICKLY REACHING ITS FUCKING MUD AND BULLSHIT TOLERANCE THRESHOLD."    
  
Panting with sleep deprived rage and Carey-hurt-panic, Killian sweeps her wife into her arms and dares them to block her way.

 

The crowd behind the now flattened stable hand pauses and bunches up in bewilderment and looks from Killian to the groaning man, uncertain. No one seems quite willing to question her outright, but there’s a sense of muttering from the people in the back.    
  
Carey squirms and hisses, “Fucking shit, hold on babe-“    
Moving so she can lift her own arm, she tugs at Killian’s wrist so the torch light (of COURSE there’s torches. Why don’t they have magicked crystals like any hedgewitch could make?) catches the gleam off their bracers,    
  
“Yo, see this shit? Yeah, that’s right, we’re  _ Bureau _ , sent by Madam Director Lucretia her _ self _ . If you want our help, you’re going to need to act  _ civilized _ .”

 

"I forgot we could do that now," Killian mutters, embarrassed. She deflates a little, but she's still mad, and the little mob is uneasy.    
  


“Yeah, I probably should have done it when we got here,” Carey mutters back, shifting as her ankle sends up another shot of pain. 

  
"So what are you gonna do?" A brave and/or stupid person pushes the issue. Killian looks awkwardly at Carey, who glares at the whole crowd, since the speaker upper isn’t brave enough to be at the FRONT. 

  
“Well, I can’t do jack shit until we go back and get our stuff and I get this fucking ankle wrapped,  _ genius _ . Then we’ll  _ investigate _ and  _ track _ shit, since there’s most of a full moon and it just rained and none of  _ you _ are bothering!”

 

They all sort of mutter and look at each other and grumble, but they don't have a lot of coherent thoughts to share. They're scared and confused and upset, but it's starting to dawn on them that they ought not to pitchfork their rescuers.    
  
"Yeah, al...alright...."    
  
Killian huffs.    
  
"Babe, you want me to carry you?"

 

“Gods yes please, I’m not sure I didn’t break it,  _ fuck _ .”   
  
With the immediate danger of being mobbed gone, Carey slumps against Killian’s shoulder and wraps her tail about her forearm again, right where it belongs.    
  
The walk back is a lot longer than it had been when they both ran it under the influence of adrenaline, and Carey is hissing softly in discomfort by the time they reach the inn, which is now swarming with almost-panicking people. The sounds of sobbing can be heard from the dining room, and one of the not-quite-panicking people points them towards it,    
  
“Duani wants to see you.”    
  
The look in their eye as they see the two (half) naked and once again swamp monsterish women is that of a person who is caught between two fearsome things and the swamp monsters aren’t winning.

 

Killian can't even bring herself to be self-conscious. They can't see too much past the mud anyway. She demands a health potion or a cleric from the receptionist and sits down with Carey and this Duani person.    
  
"So, what are the facts?"

 

Duani is a tall, dark-skinned, full-elf woman with piercing eyes, who is standing over the sobbing half-elven woman from before. She looks them over, face betraying nothing, and nods at the person who brought them over to fetch a healer,    
  
“And  _ you’re _ the best the Bureau has to offer?”    
  
It is more challenge than dismissal, but only barely. Carey groans and slumps against Killian’s shoulder,    
  
“Fuck’s sake.....”

 

Killian cracks her knuckles. She hates this. She hates everything about this, especially once Carey implied there was nasty thralling bardic magic afoot. Killian doesn't do thralling magic. Especially not anymore.   
  
"I mean, we could leave, if you don't want our  _ free and experienced _ help." She pretends like she's going to get up, although she takes great care not to jostle Carey.

 

Duani’s mask of utter uncaring drops momentarily as her ears flick back and her eyes widen; then it snaps back into place and she waves Killian down,    
  
“No, no, you’re right, I- I  _ apologize _ . Tani, land’s  _ sake _ , girl! Stop bawling and be  _ useful! _ ”   
  
Carey is about to protest this, but it does shut Tani up, and she  _ does _ have a headache from her fall, so....   
  
Tani gulps, swallows her tears, and looks tragically at Duani,    
  
“It  _ took _ them, Ma, we were just- I was jus’ taking them to the privy, they were barely awake, and I  _ heard _ it-“

 

"Did it not affect you? How many other people have been taken? Were they all kids?" Killian sits back after speaking and rubs Carey's neck in that way she really likes when she gets stressed. Fuck, they're covered in mud again. Couldn't they have investigated something somewhere temperate??

 

Carey’s tail stops twitching almost instantly, and she leans into the touch, her eyes never leaving the elves.   
  
Tani sniffed and shakes her head, “I just... I heard music and looked to see where it came from and they- they were out of my hands and running like a  _ shot, _ and it-“ Her eyes filled with tears and her voice choked off, “-It was  _ standing _ in the  _ gate- _ ”   
  
At this point the healer, a middle-aged half-elven woman,  arrives and stops in the doorway, eyes flicking in turn to each member of this.... unfortunate party.    
  
“Ma...”   
  
“Start with them, Dalia,” Duani gestures at Carey and Killian

 

Killian isn't injured, just pissed off, and she doesn't necessarily want to relinquish Carey here either.  She wants to haul her back to their room, get clean again, summon a cannonball, and get the fuck out of here. Everything about this has her nerves on edge.    
  
And these people are going to drive her the fuck insane. She doesn't want them to get distracted or weepy or racist and fuck everything up further and longer, and the mud is starting to harden and she's still wearing a sheet for a top and hauling Carey around has left it a bit askew. Luckily there's mud to cover her shocking bits.   
  
Ohhhhhhhh, she hates this.   
  
"What was standing in the gate. We need as many details as possible. Be specific." Killian can't help but glare at the weepy lady.

 

Carey looks over at Dalia and points at her ankle.    
  
"This is the only thing that's super fucked up," she says. The woman blinks and takes a few more steps towards her, still eyeing Killian nervously. In THIS case, Carey can almost not blame her; Killian is radiating a spicy, simmering rage and even if it's super sexy, there's only so many times you can explode at people before they decide maybe 'fuck your help'. Nudging her, Carey eases off her lap and onto a stool, leaning her back against Killian's knee.   
  
"Look, the faster you tell us this, the faster we can get clean and kitted up and out of your  _ hair _ , okay? We don't wanna be sitting here dripping mud on your floor  _ any more _ than you do."   
  
This from Carey gets an amused snort out of Duani as Dalia reaches out gingerly to take the busted ankle and murmur a spell.   
  
"What she saw is probably what the butcher saw before  _ his _ son vanished, and the milliner before  _ that _ ," Tani sniffed and nodded. "An unnaturally tall and thin figure, like a willow tree with only four limbs, that sings or plays a flute and summons children to walk with it, and we never see them again."

 

"So a creepy bard, probably an elf. Is that it? Have you gone looking for them? Are there any sketchy caves around? A creepy out-of-towner everybody pissed off or didn't pay for a hard job?" Killian feels bad about Carey. And the mud. She tries to cool her temper, but it's not her greatest skill in the best of times, and the pressure and yuck is making it even harder. 

 

Duani gives her a bitter look, "Of  _ course _ we looked for them. We searched everywhere after the first of  _ our  _ children were taken,  _ everywhere _ .  _ We _ value-"   
  


_ We. _ Damn, they're pushing this. Killian’s skin itches with rage and mud. She sucks in a deep breath and uses her customer service voice.  _ "We need as much information as possible. Can you have the other parents come talk with us?" _

  
Bitchy Elf Grandma bites her lip and inhales slowly, "There's been no trouble, no strangers that didn't stay at this inn, and I  _ know _ everyone who passes through. The other villages in the area say the same; once a month, a child vanishes. What time varies by village. No one has come to help us. Until you."   
  
"How many children have been lost? When did it start? Are there any related myths in the area?" Leeeeet me taaaaake a fuuuuucking shower, Killian sings in her head. She hooks a finger in Carey's rogue belt for a bit of support both ways. Carey has to know how much she hates this.

 

Carey leans against her hand as Dalia lets go of her foot and sighs at being able to rotate her ankle again. Duani's mouth tightens,   
  
"This would be the fourth month. If there's been anything like this before, it's not in  _ my _ memory," The look she gives them is stony. "And  _ my _ memory is quite long...even without the addition of....recent events."   
  
Carey's eye ridges go up and she flicks a glance to Killian.  _ They _ were allowed to be annoyed with Lucretia, and the other Starblaster crew were in a league of their own, there; but this sniffy elven woman with her snide innuendos did  _ not _ get to make criticisms.   
  
"Right, yeah, kay, that's probably all we need until we're dressed. If it's been going on THAT long and nobody's been able to track it. We'll wait till dawn, kay thanks bye."

 

Oh, thank Istus. Killian lets go of Carey (and gives her a little push) when she's finally given them permission to abandon this worthless, godforsaken scene. But Killian is sick of this. And she's going to get a little revenge.

  
Killian stands up, feet and floor still slick with mud, and lets herself slip comically right onto the bitchy elf woman, dirt and all. She catches herself, doesn't want to crush the woman. Cover her in mud and scare the shit out of her, though? That's worth it.    
  
"Whoops- I'm  _ so _ sorry." She grips the woman's shoulder to 'steady herself' and pretends to dust her off, further spreading the mud on the fanciest duds in the room. "Shucks. You know us big races are so durn clumsy." She backs off, barely able to contain the cheeky grin trying to bloom on her face. Those nasty horny boys are terrible influences, she supposes, but she can imagine them all laughing their asses off.

 

Carey watched this display with unhidden satisfaction, and gives Duani a toothy grin of her own. "We're going up to our Bureau paid-for rooms to take showers, and pack our  _ Bureau-sponsored _ weapons so we can track your child-stealer for you. If you have any other information so we can  _ help you fix this _ , or the other bereaved parents want to give us more intel, we will be leaving here like... a half hour after dawn.  _ After _ breakfast."   
  
So saying, she reaches a hand out for Killian and swans out of the room towards the stairs, using ALL her rogue grace to imitate Lucretia at her most Madam Director.

 

Killian loves it. She bursts into peals of raucous laughter the second they're out of there and happily follows Carey back to their room.    
  
"I can't believe- I mean, I can, but- AUUUGH. I'm so fucking glad you're okay?? I can't stand these people- Did you hear the way she talked about the Director? AAAAAAAAUUUGH."

 

Carey smiles up at her and tugs her into their room and locks it,    
  
“ _ Seriously _ , Kills, If it wasn’t  _ kids _ we were talking about, I’d shower and be out the window without paying at this point. She kept-  _ HRRRGH _ ”    
she threw her hands in the air and stomped to the bathroom, “ ‘ _ We _ value OUR children’, like that soft boiled crack shell didn’t go all to pieces when the kids weren’t even off her  _ ground _ yet. Gods.”   
  
Compared to the bathtub, the shower is a large one, but not quite large enough for the two of them; Carey glances between their filthy bodies and grimaces,    
“Rock, paper, scissors?”

 

"You go ahead," Killian says, irritation seeping back in. "I at least had pants on." She digs around for the rest of the wine and swigs it all, kicking off what's left of a second pair of potentially ruined pants. She stuffs the muddy sheet in the trash and snickers at her own misfortune.    
  
"Can you believe- Sitting there half naked- you buckass naked- mud everywhere, ohhh I hope I ruined that bitch's hoity toity outfit..."

 

"I was about to develop an aversion to nudity right there, she didn't even  _ offer _ -"   
  
Carey turns the shower all the way to hot and stands under the hardest part of the spray, seething. Now that she isn't distracted by pain, the memory of the whole interview is building to a boiling rage in her stomach.   
  
"We should make a note for any other teams coming to this area. No orcs unless it's like....Bradson or something. See what they make of  _ him _ ."

 

"Kill them with kindness? Ugh, I don't know. I mean it's not like I don't get it elsewhere, you know-" Killian locates another bottle of wine beneath the food cart and revels in her discovery, popping it open and drinking straight from this bottle, too.    
  
"These little fucking closed off towns...Ugh. UGH, I say!"

 

Carey steps out of the shower, tail flicking water over the walls, spitefully.   
  
"Yeah, but at least in Neverwinter or Goldcliff you can make a noisy fuss about it. Plus you aren't, like,  _ depending _ on those people to  _ cooperate _ for their  _ own fucking good _ ."   
  
She snorts again, ruff half flared as she reaches for a towel.

 

"HONESTLY! It's amazing how many people can't stop being bigoted if their own fucking lives depend on it!"    
  
Killian heads back to the bathroom when Carey is finished and offers her what's left of the wine.   
  
"They can kiss my muddy ass..."

 

"They don't deserve  _ that _ much," Carey grabs the bottle and flops on the bed, "It's too nice an ass for them to kiss. Merle's maybe, that would be an  _ actual _ punishment." She downs the rest of the wine in a long gulp, barely avoiding covering herself in it."Even that is too good."

  
Killian turns the shower back on, tests the water, and gets under, sighing softly in absolute relief. Not as good as a proper bath, but she’s bone tired and this will do the trick well enough. Remembering their conversation, she adopts a crunchy, cartoonish Merle voice,  _ "They can kiss my Kenney Chesney tattoo!" _

 

Carey cackles loudly, tail thumping the mattress as she sets the empty bottle down on the floor and then burritos herself in the covers to wait for Killian. The whole thing with the interrupted snooze, and the running, and the adrenaline, and the hurting, and the healing, and  _ all _ of it is hitting her and she just wants to  _ sleep _ .

 

It's all been so much, and it only promises to get more frustrating.  It takes ages to get all the stupid mud off and pull gravel and burrs from Killian’s feet. But finally, finally clean, again, she towels roughly off and all but dives into bed, again.    
  
"I mean it this time," she says, not bothering to repeat her earlier threat. She wraps her arms tightly around Carey, wearing off the fear and anger and nastiness of part two of the shittiest shit day.    
  
Maybe the third? shittiest shit day. Considering Phandalin, and the whole hunger thing. Well, and the whole Crystal Kingdom. Still, top five.

 

Getting unburritoed when Killian had her arms wrapped around Carey is a chore, but through a series of squeaks, pokes, wriggles, and the occasional headbutt, Carey finds herself squished against her  _ wife _ (!!!!!!) and warm under the blankets.   
  
"If anyone wakes us up, I'm lightning-ing them...."

 

“Fuckin’ good,” Killian mutters, tickling Carey’s ruff. At least they have each other. 


	5. Right Track, Wrong Foot

Despite what Carey said to Duani, the light from the sun is very firmly coming through the window when there's a timid knock at their door. Lifting her head from against Killian's neck, Carey lets out a low growl, debating how much she  _ cared _ about the Bureau's reputation after last night....   
  
"Hello? Um, I was told I could come speak about my....my daughter?"   
  
The voice is a high tenor, and too low behind the door to probably be an elf. 

 

Carey grumbles, but does raise her voice enough, "Yeah, just a sec', we need pants."

 

Killian groans like a beast raised from the dead, ready to wring the neck of whatever necromancer dared to fuck with her.    
  
_ "Do  _ we need pants?"   
  
She doesn't want to do this. She doesn't want to help people. She doesn't want to leave the wife burrito.    
  
But damn it all, she's a good fuckin person.

 

" _ YOU _ need pants,  _ I'm _ being  _ nice _ about mammalian sensibilities, " Carey grumbles and slowly rolls out of Killian's grip with extreme reluctance. Flopping to the floor, she rifles through both their packs until she has some clean things. They were getting low on those already.   
Tossing some to Killian, she pulls on a pair of shorts (not bothering with a top) and opens the door,    
  
"S'up. Also do you know if breakfast is ready?"   
  
The halfling looks surprised and nervous, and stutters something about it being served already in the dining room.....?   
  
"Cool; hey Kills, if you put on pants there's food."   
  
Turning back to the halfling she gives them a friendlier smile, "Okay, you said a daughter...."

 

"Motherfucking damn shit cocksucking..." A low rolling tide of curses underscores the beginning of the conversation as Killian forces herself into a vertical position. Killian puts on the clothes. Compared to the day.....night? Before, it almost seems excessive. She hopes it's not still fucking pouring outside. This fucker is REALLY LUCKY she's starving.    
  
She goes to the door and tries to school herself into a better mood. If she starts off angry, it'll only go south from there.    
  
She still eyes the newcomer harshly.

 

They quail under her stare, gripping their baggy pants anxiously, “I-if you  _ want _ , I could.... could talk to you in the dining hall?”   
  
“Oh  _ dope _ , you are now my favorite person in this whole damn village,” Carey leans behind the door and grabs a vest and their money pouch (one of them) and gestures for the halfling to walk ahead of them, “After you, gentlebeing.”   
  
This does NOT seem to help the halfling’s anxiety, but they do manage to babble a few things out before the noise of the dining hall echoes up the stairs,    
  
“My daughter- I’m Roschi, the milliner- my daughter was taken, um, taken last month? At this time of the month, and she- she....” they cover their face as all of them descend the stairs, taking a moment to breathe. “....She was in her bed, I put her there, and I heard the music as I was putting away my sewing- I had an important commission, you see, and- and, she’s too small to unlock the front door, and I  _ locked _ it, but I heard her feet and the door was swinging open and I couldn’t- I couldn’t even tell which way she’d gone....”   
  
The din in the dining room quiets for a beat as both Carey and Killian walk in, but starts up nervously as Dalia strides towards them, a determined smile on her face, “We thought it best to not give you a wake up call, but Roschi here  _ did _ show up after dawn as requested. We have porridge with sausage and rolls for breakfast, if you’d like.”

 

"Hell yeah." Killian takes one of Carey's hands and makes a beeline for the food. "Keep talking, little pal. What else did you notice? Did anyone else hear anything? Do you remember the song?"   
  
It's sort of funny to be back among them again, fully clothed and clean. She sort of wishes she'd given her hair more attention, but it's neither here nor there. She loads up more than what was probably considered their fair share and finds them a quieter place to talk and scarf sausage.

 

Carey ignores the porridge in favor of bread and meat, and keeps a steady eye on Roschi, who seems to be able to focus better when they have a spoon to fidget with. “You said you couldn’t tell which way she went, so how long was it between hearing her getting up and going to check?”    
  
Roschi looks between her and Killian before looking back at their spoon, “Uhm, right away, she should have been in bed... I remember... I remember the moonlight was strong, and I could still hear the music, but no one else remembered it when I- when I started calling for help...”    
  
A single tear rolls down their cheek.

 

"Lunar cycles, that's interesting..." Killian looks up, and bites her lip. Putting her fork down, she reaches out and gives their wrist an encouraging squeeze.    
  
"Look, we know last night was a bit messy, but we really are experienced. We are going to do whatever we can to do as much for your daughter as possible. Alright?"    
  
The elf lady she was struggling to have sympathy for, but this person? Her heart hurts. Killian doesn't even know if she likes kids.....or...wants to have them. Not that that's a prerequisite to saving them, but...

 

Roschi smiles tremulously at Killian and wipes their eyes, “Yes... yes, thank you.” They sniffle and their eyes focus a bit, “But you  _ saw _ them, didn’t you? You chased them down the road?”   
  
“Yeah, for sure,” Carey taps her fork absently against her plate as she stares into the middle distance, “I was seeing both kids, and I saw whoever they were following when you tossed me, babe.” She bares her teeth in disgust, “there’s probably at LEAST one illusion charm going on here, and I don’t like that this thing makes sure a parent sees their kid is gone...”

 

"I guess I didn't think about illusion magic." Killian scowls. It just keeps getting more complicated. "Making sure the parents see...is it...I don't know, I'll throw spaghetti-- could it be a lich? That's a certain kind of powerful suffering, isn't it?"   


Carey's eyes flick to Roschi, who’s gone pale, "Or just some bard who can't get it up without an audience.” Roschi’s shoulders relax a little bit, as they go back to twirling the spoon. Both are terrible, but at least one would leave the kid’s soul behind.

  
"I mean, that's. Still not great. But, uh. We're going to do whatever we can, as soon as possible. So. Stay busy. Be safe. We need to do some proper recon." Killian picks off the last of her food and whatever Carey didn't finish, knowing it's going to be another hard, long day.   
"Yeah, we should get packed up and going, see what kinda travel food they have here." Leaning forward, Carey touches Roschi's hand. "Listen, we're gonna do our  _ absolute best _ out there, and I promise that is VERY good."

  
"Man, we really ought to have a magic user or something. I mean, don't get me wrong, we're a great team. But I miss No3113's sick heals, you know?" Killian whispers once Roschi’s walked out of earshot. She ties her hair out of the way and gets up.

 

“Yeah....” Carey’s voice is reluctant as she gets up from the table,”I guess it  _ has _ been a year, and we should look for another third....”  Her shoulders hunch slightly as they head upstairs to pack.

Killian instantly feels shitty for bringing it  up, and she puts a consoling arm around her, "It's...growth, right? He would laugh at us. We need to protect ourselves. His memory- it's safe now."

 

“I  _ know _ ,” Carey growls and scrubs at an eye as she leans into Killian, “And it’s  _ stupid _ leaving ourselves open like this, I just-“ She takes a deep breath and unlocks their door, “-I just, I miss ‘em  _ both _ and I don’t... thinking about learning a third person makes me  _ itchy _ ....”  She glances at their room, which is in chaos despite them being there not quite twelve hours. 

  
"No, I totally get it, believe me. It's weird and hard." Killian stands back, surveys, internally groans. 

  
“....Speaking of itchy, I didn’t oil myself last night and I’m gonna reeee- _ gret _ it.”

"We could oil you up real quick before we go? Who knows when we'll get back. If we come back here. It's one thing to fight a nasty thing and another to be itching and distracted through it all..." Kilian pats her shoulder, knowing full well her scales aren’t the matter at hand. 

 

Carey grimaces, clacking her teeth in thought before nodding, “Shouldn’t take more than fifteen minutes.” She digs in her pack for the necessary bottle and starts walking for the bathroom, “....If we don’t get distracted  _ I guess... _ ”

 

Killian dramatically puts her hand on her heart, following her to the bathroom, "I PROMISE not to get TOO distracted. While massaging my hot new wife with scented oils." She takes the bottle from Carey and pours some on her hands and gives her a terrible smirk. "What  _ she _ does is her business."

 

“You’re a terrible person,” Carey sits on the wide rim of the tub and sticks out a leg, “and I love you sooooo much ~ “ She takes the bottle back to start on her hands and arms, it’s a tricky business getting oil in all her joints to stop the itchy flaking, and if they want to be gone soon....It’s also nice to break up the stress of grief and the lost children and the pressure of this freaky town and...

 

Killian kneels on the floor and works on Carey's legs, using the opportunity to massage her ankle. Healing magic does wonders, but it also puts a lot of stress on the body. She was teasing about getting Carey hot and bothered, but she's going to be relieved to see some real adventure action and solve a few fucking problems, so as much as she really wants to kiss, Princess Charming-style, up Carey's naked leg, she resists the temptation....for now.    
  
"How's it feel? Your ankle?"

 

Carey sighs and tilts her head back at the warm pressure, “Not in pain, but kinda wobbly... I should maybe wrap it before we head out.”  She moves up her forearms to her elbows, making sure to get a sufficient amount in the creases, “I don’t like this job, and not just ‘cause of the snooty elves, either... don’t like the idea of an evil bard.”

 

"It's creepy, right? Like, usually they're goofy, or horny, but like...This is a threat. This could be powerful. Or ritualistic, or, I don't know, showtune werewolves?" But she feels that same unease, and bites her lip in thought as she works Carey's other leg.    
  
"You think we'll be affected?"

 

Carey grumbles, moving up to her shoulders, “Yeah, probably, if it focuses on us. Can probably do more than one target if no one else can see the kids vanishing too,” She huffs, leaning her legs into Killian’s touch.

 

"Surely it has some limitations.... Maybe the children thing is a low power thing? Children are dumb and easier to convince. Maybe he was like 'free puppies in my cave' and they were like 'sweet I'm there, I don't have any bills to pay or social obligations'." Killian slicks more on and works at the spots Carey can't reach. She's so good. Killian just wants to do right by her. Maybe she'll be a little more protective today.

 

"Yeah. Maybe." Carey stops trying to get her shoulders and leaves that for when Killian makes her way up, and just rubs in around her neck, "You're right about the magic user, though. Guess we're kinda late to ask Lucretia "Heeeeeeeeeey, could you send some wizard we can actually  _ stand _ to be around?'"

 

"Listen, are there any tolerable wizards?" Killian snorts and dips her head, finishing her work and getting up to wash her hands off. "You all good, babe? Adventure and revenge await." She takes the chance to comb her hair properly and put it up in an I-mean-business ponytail, then starts corralling all of their shit. It would be nicer not to have to come back here and stick around.

 

Carey scrubs excess oil into her ruff and bounces to her feet,  “Hell yeah, let’s ice this motherfucker.” Pants, vest, quick wrap for her ankle, and pushing her dirtier stuff to the bottom of her pack, and she nods at her Wife, ready to go.

Killian grabs her stuff, nods right back at her Wife, and heads back downstairs to GET HER FUCKING BOOTS, THIS TIME. But with that firmly settled, they head out, on the road again. Killian squints up at the sky threateningly and hopes they won't get any repeats of the day before.    
  
She's...cautiously optimistic?

 

Carey sniffs the air, tail waving back and forth as she feels out the air, not sensing any pressure drops in the near future, so.... better walking for a while.    


  
They set off down the road they’d chased the kids last night. Unfortunately it’s been pretty well churned up, considering. Once they get to the very obvious place in the road where Carey crashed, she slows and stoops low to the ground, wandering back and forth across the road and checking for  _ any _ footprints that are barefoot and smaller than average.

 

"Anything good, Carebear?"    
  
Killian feels exposed, and she doesn't like it. This whole area gives her goosebumps. At least it isn't raining. She surveys the horizon and looks for a sign of a cave or something where all of these kids could be hidden.

 

Carey clacks her teeth in an annoyed reply, stepping over a new cart rut as she makes a sweep along the right side of the road,    
  
“People been walking this for  _ hours _ , I can’t believe I would have to say ‘hey maybe don’t travel down the spoopy road with a kidnapper’. You’d think people would just not WANT to....”    
  
She freezes, tail lashing, as she sees a pair of tiny footprints in a perfectly kept hollow leading off the road, the moss bent, and a broken fern next to it.    
  
Hissing, she steps past the fern and keeps going slowly...    
  
“Holy  _ fuck _ , there’s a  _ trail _ here, Kills!”

 

"Honesty, these people don't know jack shit about anything-" Killian bumps into Carey and stops. Her tail is so cute.   
  
"A trail? I mean, I guess I believe you? But you're gonna have to lead  the way." Killian looks back and forth at the road, unsure what exactly she's missing. "You sure it isn't from the rain?"

 

“No like-“ Carey reaches back and tugs her sleeve, pointing past the foliage,    
“It’s not much more than a deer track, but it’s  _ there _ ... fuck, no wonder no one’s found it, you’d have to know where it IS to find it every time....”    
  
Darting forward, she paces along the edge of the mud carefully, checking which way the footprints were leading,    
  
“ _ Got it! _ ”

 

"Yeah, uh. I'll just follow you." Killian has to be careful where to put her feet in the mud and it's hard to keep up with Carey's speed and enthusiasm when she can't see the trail herself, but she trusts her wife and follows her as far as the invisible path will lead.    
  
"You think we're dealing with, like, a bard and a druid? What exactly are we fighting here?" Maybe she’ll catch the next perception check.

 

“Killian, bride of my heart, I love you more than anything in the fucking world, but this is really tricky and you are  _ distracting _ me and I don’t want to have to double back and fuck something up,  _ please- _ ”    
  
Carey’s nose twitched as the faded tang of urine floated up, laced with sharp fear,   
  
“....One of the kids pissed themselves. Guess the spell wore off about here.”

 

"That's...good, I guess?" Killian keeps back and quiet, afraid to distract Carey when she's doing so well. Instead, she scans the area again for threats, eyeballs the distance back to town, to the other towns. This isn't just one fuck-off scenario, she figures. This is bigger than they might have first guessed.

 

"S'a fuckin' long way for a kid to walk on their own, though..."   
  
There's suddenly more footprints, bigger ones. The little footprints are on either side of them, and the brush is broken.   
  
" _ Fuck _ , babe! The dude! The bard! He took his spells off  _ here! _ " And he  _ is _ a 'he', she's nearly certain, the scents are stronger, it's been barely a few hours.

 

"Then we're close? Thank the gods." Killian can't wait to pummel this guy. She can't wait to pummel this guy real good, rescue a bunch of kids, go home, get paid, and go on her honeymoon. All this boring foot travel and asshole locals and whatnot has given her a real bad need for a fancy massage, the kind they did in island getaways with hot rocks where you can do it at the same time and hold your wife's hand while you relax. And maybe swimming, on a beach, and cocktails, and...

 

"Yeah.....let's slow down, I don't like this...." Carey could feel her ruff trying to flare. The trail had led them in a winding switchback up the mountain, and it was  _ widening _ now, becoming a real foot path.  ".......Yeah, I really..... _ really _ don't......."

 

Killian puts a steady hand on her shoulder,  "Hey. It's alright. We're okay. Let's get out of sight, have a snack, make a plan. We don't have to rush into this."    
  
She looks for a tree, or a good crop of rocks. Anything to be less exposed.

Carey leans into the contact, tail flicking nervously as she stares up the trail, "Kay. Kay, yeah, sounds good. Food is good."   
  


The trees are starting to thin out, but the forest is thicker further down the switchback, and there’s a hollow created by a fallen tree hitting an outcropping of granite. It looked as if the rain hadn't quite been able to get to it at all.

 

"This is great, hell yes. Finally some dry land."  Killian fishes food out of their pack and sets out two servings of dried meat and bread.  "Tell me what you got, babe. Let's make a plan." She starts cutting up a stonefruit to share.

Carey curls against Killian's thigh, gnawing at the jerky and staring up the trail in thought.   
  
"Kay, well, the path's well used here, but I'm not seeing a lot of different sized feet, so it's one or two people of about the same height. Smell is weird, some kinda mixed race maybe? Or a really crusty dude. Not a  _ lot _ of magic, but if he's good enough I wouldn't smell wards anyway. …….Not, um, not smelling other kids beyond the two. Hope that's just the rain."

 

"I guess that goes with the druid-bard theory? And yeah, that tracks….. but maybe they have other little paths up the mountain on other sides? Or something." Otherwise, the consequences could be dire. Cautious Optimism. Cautious Optimism.   
  
Killian offers Carey a slice of the stonefruit carefully, in thought. Her hands are going to be sticky now. She should have known better.    
  
"I mean. Does it weird you out that they didn't report this when the very first kid disappeared? Wasn't that months ago? I guess, like. Who would they tell, right? But who just....accepts that their kid is gone, like a stray cat?"

 

“Especially since it’s the surrounding towns  _ too _ ,” Carey takes the slice and bites slowly, turning over things in her mind, “Man, I kinda wish I could see the original report and what they said...”    
  
She runs back over the last few days and huffs, “Like.... did they get the report after Roschi’s kid vanished or was it something else triggered it. And I wonder who lost the first kid, cause from what they said, people weren’t rushin’ to help them straight off.”    
  
She switches to gnawing her jerky, “kids from  _ last _ night were full or near elven....”

 

"And Roschi was halfling, right? Shit, I dunno. I mean it's not like we saw the whole village, but it wasn't terribly  _ diverse _ . There's always racism, I guess." She takes another bite and feeds Carey a piece, dripping juice down her chin. She takes a little comfort in the fact that they can find domestic romance even in dead-tree lean-tos and freaky-magic kidnapping investigations.    
  
"Is it bad if I was hoping for something more interesting than that? Like, as much as I fuckin hated the relics, they sure were interesting... Like, an ancient werewolf lich, or a magic, uh...toy store. Something new. Not just, creepy bard assholes."

“I  _ know _ right? Lucretia called us in an  _ emergency _ for this!”  Carey growls as she takes the piece offered, “I mean, yeah, missing kids, real terrible I just, hrgh.”    
  


The sun is getting high over them, close to noon, and the sounds of the forest are growing quieter. Carey is too distracted by her thoughts to give this much more thought besides attributing it to things going to ground through the heat of the day. If anything is going on in the forest, Killian doesn't notice either. She works on her jerky and stews.    
  
"It doesn't line up. This isn't what we do." She uses a bit of water from her canteen to wash the sticky off her hands. "We better go. The sooner we pick up the rock, the faster we can squash the bugs."

Carey growls again as she stands, flicking her snout from side to side to get back on the trail. As she climbs out of their hollow, she yelps and nearly levitates into the air;    
  


A child sized skeleton stands on the path, eye sockets pointed at her in..... curiosity?    
  


“Holy  _ shit-! _ ”


	6. Everything Goes Spooky

Killian catches Carey easily as she scrambles back, but then she spots what spooked her.   
  
"What the FUCK _IS THAT??_ " Her voice climbs in pitch, surprisingly high for her, and she bodily pulls her wife back to protect them both from the little lost spirit.   
  
"CAREY. CAREY WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK CAREY IT'S LOOKING AT ME I _DO NOT LIKE THIS_."

 

The skeleton child tilts its head, continuing to look, a sense of amusement radiating off it as Killian yells. Carey squirms in her wife's grip, twisting her tail around her forearm and clambering on Killian's shoulder,   
  
"Hey, excuse me???? What the _fuck?_ "   
  
The child skeleton does not reply.

 

Killian keeps backing away from their hidey hole, grip tight on Carey.   
  
"What do you want?? Why are you here? Who sent you?" She takes a deep breath. "Oh, **_fuck_ ** , Care, we're gonna have to call the reapers, this is big bad necromancy, we really stepped in it, this is bad luck for sure-"

 

Carey's frill is puffed up, her teeth bared as she fights the instinct to pour lightning over the _walking skeleton holy gods on fire_ \-   
  
But it's between them and the trail up, and she can't actually face the idea of telling Lucretia 'yeah we got this far, but then ran away from a skeleton that didn't DO anything'.   
  
"Babe, Kills, I love you so much, but uuuuuuuh, running can't be an option until we know where those elf kids are."   
  
The skeleton keeps looking at them, head slightly tilted, and the light catches the way its jaw is curved slightly into tiny tusks.

 

"I.......yeah, it...okay." Killian takes a shaky breath. And looks a little closer. "Oh, fuck, Carey, oh no... Oh....It's orcish... Oh, Care, it's so little..." She swallows around an elbow-sized lump in her throat. This is worse. This is a lot worse.   
  
She takes...a tentative step closer, (still holding onto Carey in case it turns out hostile). She tries to work up a friendly tone.   
  
"Hey there, Liga Iggi." She hopes this _little one_ actually knows their language, although in a place like this, it's possible their adult didn't teach them, to keep them safer.

 

The skeleton child tilts its head the other direction and shakes it almost sadly. Carey is so frozenly focused on the child that the brush of wind rustling through the trees around them makes her flinch, suddenly realizing how _quiet_ the forest is right now.   


_why............here.......?_   


The question echoes at them from the wind, but it's _definitely_ a child's voice.

Killian closes her eyes and counts to ten and makes a high pitched noise and tries really hard not to lose what little cool she still has. She takes a  breath and looks at the skeleton again.   
  
"We're here because of you, baby. We're looking for the lost kids."

 

The child can't smile, or rather is smiling all the time, but it seems to get happier at that,  


_my.......friends.......?_

  
Carey gulps and nods, "Yeah, hatchling, sure, you know where they are?"   
  
The child points up the trail.

  
  
_Brother...........brings........them.........for me........._

 

"Hey, uh. One mo', kiddo, we are going to talk about some adult stuff real quick, and then we would love to come meet your friends, okay?"

Killian waits a moment, then pulls Carey back into the hidey hole so they can see each other face to face and gives her a wide-eyed   _this is so so so very bad and terrifying and creepy_ look. She gestures at the outside, where the kid is, makes a stabbing gesture, and does a whole-body shiver. This is way, way creepier and worse than they could have expected. She wonders if she would have preferred the lich.

Carey's tail is squeezing Killian's bicep hard enough for her scales to stand up out of their interlocking position,   
  
"We gotta, uhhh, we.....we gotta talk to the brother, gods-" She bites off a whimper, fighting to keep her ruff from standing up enough to frame her face.   
  
The skeleton child is suddenly _right_ at the edge of their hollow, peering down.   


_come..........with...........?_

 

"Um, sorry, baby, we're gonna kiss. Real gross. Grownup stuff."   
  
At Carey, she mouths _This fucker has been MURDERING KIDS. KIDS!!!!!!!_ She wants to call Lucretia. She wants to go home. What could they possibly do to help? And, if her gut is right, it's some real nasty racism based shit she does NOT want to step foot into.

Carey nods, eye locked on the child, slowly pulling out of Killian's arms even though that's the LAST thing she truly wants to do, "YeeeepPP....but we....we gotta, Kills....."  
  
Smiling weakly, she reaches a claw out to the skeleton child, "You wanna introduce us to your brother, hatchling?"   
  
It stares at her claw, then her face, and slowly reaches a phalange to her.   


_Come............meet.............brother........_

 

Killian drags her hands down her face and screams as silently as possible. But she has a job to do, and she's gonna fucking do it, because if she didn't have a vacation coming before, she's almost certainly earned it now. She pulls her pack and crossbow close as she can, then stays very, very close to Carey on the way up.   
  
If the other kids are dead, she can only hope that they're as clean as this one, cause if they're rotting, she _will_ throw up.

 

Holding the skeleton child's hand is quite possibly the worst thing Carey has ever had to do, and she includes watching her mentor turn to pink tourmaline and fighting rainbow opal zombie hordes in that. She can _feel_ the dark thrum of the magic that keeps it together on top of the smooth bone and knobby joints of its hand, feel them click together as the child walks.   
  
She tries to focus on the path in front of them as they walk out of the forest, the cliff to her right getting quite a nice view of the valley below. She can see the village and inn from here. What a cheerful and joyous thought.   
  
As they turn a corner, there's a cave opening, because of _course_ there's a cave opening, and the child drags her forward with sudden strength, its voice gone from wind in the leaves to echoes against the rock walls and clattering of stones.   


_Brother........! I........found.........more friends...........!_

 

Killian grabs Carey's hand for support and sticks close, trying not to focus on how violently they'll probably die. She gathers a bit of confidence in hoping that the brother will be something she can actually fight, and she scans the cave for information. And children that may or may not be alive. Carey squeezes Killian's hand tightly as she tries not to panic at being dragged into a dark cave by something that she _can't make let go of her hand-!_   
  
The child's voice is answered by a much deeper, physical baritone,   
  
"Rill? What are you-?" A tall half-orc, high cheekbones suggesting the other half of his heritage was elven, steps away from a workbench, tensing as he sees the two of them.   
" _Rill_ , why did you bring them _here?_ "   
  
The child lets go of Carey's hand ( _finally_ ) and runs to the man, reaching for his arm. It dances and swings on his arm, looking for all the world like a live and excited child with no concept of these spooky circumstances.   


_friends.......for you........brother......!_

 

The skeleton kid might not have experienced the Story and Song, but surely this guy did. He probably knows them, and what they do. He isn't much of an upstanding citizen, but he might think they're there to help _him_.  Killian makes a gamble. "We're from the Bureau of Benevolence. We met this Liga Iggi on the way."

 

 _they.........look.....for my......friends.....!_   


The man stares at them, face blanked as he runs a hand over the skeleton's skull, "You did good, Rill. Could you go check on the new ones? Make sure they're asleep, okay?"  
  
As the child skip-clatters further into the cave, Carey coughs, "So.....I don't suppose you're gonna give us those kids and let us walk out again, are you?"

Killian puts a hand on her shoulder and tries to keep working her angle, "We're looking into your case. Maybe you could tell us what happened." She leans in conspiratorially and whispers, "I know if anything happened to my little sister, I couldn't be held responsible for my actions." Killian has been estranged from most of her family for nearly two decades, but this guy doesn't need to know that.

 

He keeps staring at her, face unreadable, finally switching his gaze to Carey, “They’re happier here. And I’ll send them back. Eventually.”   
  
Carey’s ruff wants to flare, and she chokes back a hundred retorts as she fights to keep it still, “How do _you_ know that?”   
  
He turns his stare back on Killian, “if you’ve been there, you know.”

"Maybe you could tell us what happened," she repeats. "We want to know how to process the case for reparations, alright? We know you had good reasons for this, but we can't just take it on faith. What's your name? We'll start there." Killian hopes she can keep up the act without just strangling the guy, because her gut is telling here there's something more at play. A teenager doesn't just start doing necromancy without help.

 

There's a clatter of bone feet as Rill comes back and tugs on the man's hand.  


_She.........cry..........he................sleep......_   


"Thank you, Rill," he ran his hand over the child's head and looked back at Killian, "My name is Seth. And you can't give me my childhood or my mother back, so I don't see how you can help." He runs his hand over Rill's smooth head again. "And I got my sister my _self_."

 

Killian gives Carey a long look, "Seth, when did this start?" She clenches her hands into fists, trying to control her temper and struggling, "What did you do to these kids, asshole? Did you really destroy lives out of revenge?"

Carey's tail is twitching hard, and she's given up keeping her ruff from unfurling, "Where are the kids, Seth?"  


He shakes his head, almost sadly, holding Rill close, "They weren't wanted down there. Did you ask who their parents were? All the single parents, doing the unwanted jobs, not _pure_ races-" his face twists into a snarl, "Well, they'll get them back, and they'll _remember_. They won't be able to look past their faces and ignore them anymore."

 

"That's still murder! You can't take that shit into your own hands! How are you better than them? Children aren't tools, they're people! You've murdered kids just like your sister and you know what comes of that? CHILDREN ARE DEAD. You aren't punishing their parents!" Killian grabs him by the collar and snarls in his face.

 

“They’re _better_ now!” He snarls right back, fingers scrabbling ineffectually at her hands, “I made it so they can’t get _hurt!_ ”   
  
Carey decides she is going to let Killian handle this, running past them to the back of the cave where Rill came out of- and is nearly tripped by a gust of wind aimed at Killian.   


_LET........GO...........OF BROTHER.........._

 

Killian stands her ground, furious, "You hurt them first! You stole their lives! You piece of shit- How did you do this? No way you're powerful enough for this kind of necromancy!"  She slams him against the cave wall, trying to avoid the little kid. It's not her fault.

 

Carey skitters into the back of the cave, and there sure is a cage with two elf kids in it. She knows it’s best Killian if doesn’t crush that dude’s windpipe yet, but _still_ -

The lock is trash, she barely needs two picks for it, and the girl child looks up as she slides one in.

“Hey hatchling, we’re going to play a game called ‘when Carey says run we run’, sound cool?”   
  
The girl child is crouched over the form of her brother, her ears flat against her head, face stained with tear tracks, and her eyes blown into dark panicked pools. She hisses in response.   
  
“Yeah, I don’t blame you. Not gonna leave your sib behind, hatchling, no worries-“ The lock clicks, breaking up the sound of more slamming and shouting in the first room, and then there’s an echoing click behind her. Carey freezes. “Don’t look don’t look don’t look don’t-“ 

  
She turns to look, ruff flattening and tail curling in. There’s a tiny Halfing child skeleton staring at her. And another orc one beside it. And over them both an elvish or human one, maybe a mix, the skull is.... well, Carey isn’t up on her boneology. Kid skulls are doubly terrifying anyway, their double rows of baby and adult teeth making them look like ancient shark beasts on two stubby legs.   
  
“......Heeeey kiddos. How do you feel about following Auntie Carey on a field trip?”   
  
The maybe-human-maybe-elf skeleton tilts its head.

  
  
**YOU’RE.......STEALING...... OUR FRIENDS......**

  
  
“....Fuck.”


	7. Welcome to Scenic Final Boss Territory

Killian scuffles with Seth. She does well at first, busting his nose with a sick crack and getting blood on both of them, which gives her a temporary advantage. She drags him towards the back, towards Carey, but he kicks her in the knees and gains his own advantage just in time to see Carey's attempted breakout. Shit goes south, fast. There's something more at play here, and a foul wind rips through the cave with a chilly bite and an ominous whistle. What little torchlight there was flickers out, and even though Carey and Killian have night vision, Killian does not fucking appreciate the creepy atmosphere.

 

Carey drops the lock on the ground so the elf kids can see it's unlocked, but doesn't open it. Drawing her knives seems _wholly_ inadequate when the torches go out, and _fuck_ they should have asked Lucretia for a wizard, _fuckfuckfuck-_  
  
There's a creepy ass echoey chuckle and the _skeletons' eyes start glowing red._ Oh good. And then they look at Seth. Brilliant. And then they talk in unison, including Rill. _GREAT_ .  
  
**IT. SEEMS. YOU'VE. OVERSTEPPED. SETHAR. SIRRASON**.

 

"Oh, fuck- Oh fuck-" Killian backs away from Seth as fast as she can, tripping over a rock and landing on her ass. "What the FUCK is going on?? Carey- Carey- What the FUCK- Fucking demon ass zombie ass fucking shit on a hot rock-"  
  
This is not good this is so not good. They have no way to handle this. You can't punch demon spirits. You can't shoot them with a crossbow, no matter how big it is. This is so, fucking, bad.  
  
But they're after Seth, not Killian and Carey. Yet?

 

"Kills, you keep asking me shit like I'll _know_ , " Carey tries to keep a wail out of her voice and probably succeeds only because it chokes off as the skeletons start walking towards Seth. Who is staring in horror at Rill, which tracks.  
  
"You-" he chokes off and raises his hands, "You _can't have HER!_ "  
  
There is a flickering of darkness, darker than just absence of light around Rill, and she falters, the red light in her eyes flickering.  
  
       _brother...........?_

 

"Carey-" Killian hisses, desperate and afraid. It's painful how scared she smells, but she's a warrior and a badass and she's going to try. "Grab the live ones and let's sneak out while we still can. She'll distract him, but whatever the fuck is going on here, we want OUT."  
  
She's going to have nightmares about this for ages.  The smell of death and smoke mingles in the air, choking out the cave's live occupants.  
  
"Something's coming, and it's not good."

 

"Yeah......yeah, gotchagotcha-" Carey pulls the cage door open a crack and beckons for the girl child, "Hatchling, we gotta _book_ it, hand me your brother and we're outta here."  
  
The elf girl stares at her, fear-smell rolling off her, before reaching down and pulling at her brother's hand ineffectually. Carey leans in and scoops him up,  
  
"Kills, grab the girl, we-"  
  
The hobbit-child skeleton looks at them, turning away from the others.  
  
      **WHAT. DO. WE. HAVE. HERE?**

 

"Aw, fuck..." Killian scrambles towards the cage and grabs the kid, because there's no point in going out cowering. She lets the girl scramble up her like a tree, leaving her hands free, even if the little thing is digging holes in her flesh and her tiny tail is whipping against Killian’s shoulders. Little elves are creepy-amazing. This is totally not the time for this.  
  
She moves closer to Carey, hoping against hope they don't have a matching pair of fucked up ankles now. Time will tell. She's numb with adrenaline. Can she fight a fucking skeleton kid??

 

The halfling child tilts its head, a smile seeming to spread across its face,  
  
 **OH. SOME. BUREAU. FOOLS. EXCELLENT.**  
  
"What the _fuck_ -"  
  
Carey ducks out of the way as the skeleton raises its hands, the weight of the sleeping boy in her arms throwing her balance off enough that her tail gets caught in the blast of necromantic energy. She wails involuntarily, and tugs a knife out of its holster to chuck at the halfling. It sticks in its skull and throws off the next blast it was aiming at Killian.

 

"WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?" She dodges, though it's a near miss, and aims her crossbow at it. She can't figure out how to possible harm the stupid thing or whatever it's channeling, but. It's worth a shot. She aims for its neck, hoping to knock its head clean off, but her shot is a bit off and goes right in its jaw. Maybe that'll shut it up. She tries to get towards the cave entrance, knowing she does not want to be trapped here.

 

**YOU. ASK. MY. NAME. LITTLE. ANT?**  
  
“It would maybe be nice?” Carey limps to her feet, not really wanting to look at or smell her tail at the moment. It _burns..._  
“You know who _we_ are, politeness and all that.”  
  
If she can draw its attention to her, if Killian can get to the entrance, Killian can make her an opening.  
  
Seth is..... not looking so hot. His focus on Rill seems to be draining him fast, the other kids aren’t even _doing_ anything. Just watching him pour power over her to keep this asshole at bay.  
  
“Give her _BACK!_ ”

 

Killian can't handle this. She fucking can't handle this. She strikes at Seth, at the creepy skeletons, and it's practically useless. She gets way too close, and it makes her vulnerable to attack.  It makes Carey an opening, but not the one she wanted. This is rapidly becoming literal hell. They need backups. She can't even think of who could help them or how. Should she call a cannonball? Would it even help??

 

Carey readjusts her grip on the elf boy glancing at the cave entrance, to Killian who is hanging on to the elf girl and her sanity with a slowly slipping grip and does something so stupid she _really_ hopes it will work;  
  
“SMOKE BOMB!”  
  
Throwing the small pellets at the halfling child’s feet, Carey digs her now-free claws into Killian’s forearm and books it as fast as her injuries will allow.

 

Killian knows a chance when she's been given one, and she flees. She's scared and upset and a very strong, heavy force to be reckoned with. She blasts through the smoke and the nonsense with the kids and Carey and at the very least draws their opponent out into the open, where they have more room and more options for survival. She bowls the kid down the hill and screams "GO GO GO", hoping they'll get the hell out of dodge as fast as their toothpicky little legs will allow.

 

The elf boy is barely awake, clinging to Carey and round eyed in terror. She sets him on the ground, points him toward his sister, and gestures downard.  
“The road’s at the bottom, _GO!_ ”  
  
Drawing her knives she turns to the cave opening, tail dragging on the ground as she steps shoulder to.... mid-forearm with Killian.  
  
“Okay, So.....now would be a really good time for you to tell me you got Religion in the last couple weeks and have a Holy Symbol or something.”  
  
There are glowing red eyes at the mouth of the cave.

 

"Merle stuffed a handful of those stupid pan-phlets in my bag at the wedding, does that count?"  
  
Killian raises her crossbow and wishes she'd kept the warhammer she used in college.  
  
"How the fuck do we even fight that thing? What did it do to you?"  She's sweaty, like her skin has become aware of its own mortality, and she finds herself wishing, again, that she was on the beach on her goddamn motherfucking honeymoon. But damn it, she's going to get there, no matter what it takes.

 

"I dunno, it burns like acid, but all wobbly, so probably.....death. Yeah. Necromancy. " Carey flips her tail and winced, the red eyes were _more_ now, but didn't seem to want to come out of the cave."Think they hate sunlight now they have a death god in 'em?"  
"Possible. I have some charmed bolts, actually. No radiant damage, but I've got, uh, fire. Poison. Ice. Explodey. You think we could blast the mountain?"  
  
  
Carey slings her pack off her back and started digging through, she _knew_ she had more explosives in here, kept in separate pockets.....

 

"Sure would be really, really convenient, honestly. And I am so there for that potential escape route. Anyway I pretty much got one shot, maybe two, so I'm hoping you have a better idea." Killian digs through her own pack as well as she can one-handed, sure there's something more in there to unfuck the situation besides some peanuts and wet socks.  
  
"Death magic, death magic...what's the pneumonic… Necromancy looks quite fancy, but something, something, fuck... It's got to be weak to something, right? Not slashing, maybe burning? Hopefully burning??"

 

"I think it's ‘Necromancy looks quite nice, but never let a skull touch ice’, but if I breathe electricity at it, I bet it won't like it anyway....."

 

"I got an ice one too, I'll save that for if they come out of the cave after you crunch it."

 

Carey pulls out two small packages in triumph, " _Fuck YEAH!_ Okay, Kills? I'm gonna need you to: A. throw me at the top of that cave, B. keep those fuckers inside, and C. shoot one of your 'splodey arrows at it when I signal you."

 

"You got it, baby. Then what? How are you getting out of this jam, huh?"  
  
Part of her is terrified to fuck up and hurt Carey again, but she shuts that shit down hard. She can freak out later. Now, they act or they die, and she sure as shit isn't dying before her vacation.

 

"Right....uhhhhh, D. catch me when I jump _real_ fuckin' far. I think that covers it. Cool."  
  
Carey shoves the explosives on each side of her hips, and clambers up Killian's arm to give her the best kiss she can manage and a hard nuzzle.

 

Killian kisses back, hard and desperate, in the real possibility that this could be their last. But she won't even entertain the thought.  
"Okay, sweet, throw me, babe."  
  
"Hey, I fuckin' love you," Killian says, voice low and deep and afraid and awed of her perfect, brave, sexy cool wife. "Go kick ass." And she yeets her very best friend in the world at something that could end it given the slightest chance and tries not to panic. She has asses to kick. Skeleton asses.

 

Carey flies, and for the brief moment she's in the air and not landing, she tries to enjoy the feeling. Just how _far_ Killian can throw her without even seeming to put effort into it-  


Cliff.  


She throws out four limbs like a cat and curls her tail tightly, hissing in pain and scrabbling for purchase. She's probably throwing rocks down, but she can't bother thinking about that right now.  
  
Right, pressure points....PRESSURE....POINTS.....she's no dwarf, but you don't learn how to blow up safes without learning a thing or two....and Boyland had always-.....always been _happy_ to share expertise.  
  
She plants a wire here _here_ and **here** , strapping the payloads together and shaking. Right. A time limit.  
  
Turning, she looks down at the ground and winces; it's _really_ far and....and it looks like Seth is pushing Rill out ahead of him, turning and firing more awful magic behind him. It looks worse in the sunlight and so does _he_. His eyes and cheeks look sunken in, green leaching out of his leathery skin, tiny tusks biting against the corners of his mouth.  
  
Welp. Here goes nothing. She jumps.  
  
"RIGHT HERE, BABE!"

 

C, shoot the arrow. Killian aims her shot, sets the charge, and gives it a kiss for good luck. Then she fires it with all the strength she can muster, which she would go on the record saying is quite a lot, thank you very much, and watches the motherfucker fly. Right...then D, catch wife.  
  
Killian lines up as best she can, running to stay out of the way of the big fight. The more they fight each other, the less Team Sweet Flips: Wife Edition have to worry about. The enemy of my enemy keeps my enemy out of my way. She's careful as she can be given the situation, especially since she's got something to prove, and maybe it knocks the wind out of her when she catches Carey, but she fucking catches her, all of her, and pulls her into a quick, tight hug.  
  
"NOW WHAT?"

 

Carey wraps all her limbs around Killian, even her aching tail and counts-  
  
Three.... two.... one....

  
  
_whumph-_ **BOOM.**

  
  
The overhang above the cave _shatters_ and Carey feels her teeth rattle. Looking over her shoulder she is vaguely pleased to see she judged well enough to cover the whole exit. Rill is standing motionless right in front of a large boulder that-  
  
Oh no-  
  
“.....I was gonna say ‘book it’ but uhhhhh....”

 

Killian hits the deck to protect them and dirt and gravel fly everywhere when the world crumbles. It gets in her hair and scrapes their skin and it would be terribly exciting if it weren't for the still rather excessive amount of danger of being murdered to death by necromancy. Potentially multiple times, if the other petty, vindictive necromancers they've had the misfortune to come into contact with were any indication.  
  
"UUHH WHAT. WHAT DO WE DO. WHAT THE FUCK IS IN THAT CHILD SKELETON CAREY."

"We're asking Lucretia for a _fucking_ magic user."  
  
Rill turns to them slowly, and her eyes are not red this time, which is a fraction of a relief. Then she points to the boulder, or rather what is under it, and _that_ is not.

  
  
       _Bro.............ther......................................?_

 

"Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh shit. Shiiiiiit. SHIIIIIIIIIIT??"  
  
Carey winces, ruff flaring in anxiety, "Yeah.....? Yeah, I'm sorry hatchling, it might be hi-"  
Killian gets to her feet and backs up, ready for shit to hit the ultimate fan. Magic. Any magic. Gods, she hates this shit. Did it have to be so creepy???  
  
"Get ready for shit to get wild..."

 

_Bro.....THER......GONE........!_

  
"Fuck."  
  
Rill tilts her head back and the _scream_ that comes out doesn't bother going through their ears. Instead it goes straight to their heads, do not pass go, do not collect two hundred gold pieces. Otherworldly terror grips them from the inside out and shakes them to their core.  
The boulders around Rill begin to shiver and rise, a wind whipping around her skeletal feet as she screams confusion and grief into the landscape.

 

Killian drops Carey to hold her head, unable to fight off the sheer pain and fear infecting her at the molecular level. There's no way she could have saved against that kind of pain. It infects the air around them, the trees blowing back and birds, the few foolish or deaf enough to still be hanging around, drop from the sky like rocks. If he's dead-dead, then maybe they'll be okay, maybe she'll tire herself out, but if he was warlocking in bed with some kind of ancient demon or god or whatever, this could be more of a final stage battle, which means they had one more really good shot at dying in misery. And with that kind of power in the air, it'll be hard to defend themselves.  
  
Killian is afraid.

 

Carey crouches, hands clutching her skull, squinting into the dust whipped up by Rill’s grief. As the boulder next to Rill lifts off what’s left of Seth, a pattern forms in the wind and shifts darker until something like a.... a stick figure wrapped in dark, angry wind floats there, shuddering.  


_Little sister........._  


Rill stops screaming, and the wind begins dying down.  
  
Carey lifts one claw cautiously off her head and puts it on Killian’s hip,  
  
“Hey Kills? Ever, uh, everrrrr get the sense you’re coming in on the uh, the last chapter of something again?”

 

"Sure fucking hope we get a sequel," Killian mutters. She can't even look straight at that thing, like her eyes just slip right off it, and the fact that the boulder came off says _threat_ to her. This isn't going great, she's going to hazard a guess, and she doesn't want to stick around and prove herself right. Ghostly screams still echo in her mind and she shakes her head to get them out, like water from her ears.  
  
"Should we maybe flee? As in, retreat, as in, make like a tree?"  
She tries to sound calm but can't keep the nerves out of her voice. Fucking _magic_.

 

Carey tries not to dig her claws into Killian’s hip, watching as the shadow that used to be Seth reaches out for Rill, shadow hand thingie flickering. It pulls her towards it and-  
  
“Yeah no hey I’m gonna guess that’s the best plan, great plan, _fuckin book it-_ ”  
  
She spins, not wanting to turn her back on the scene but wanting to be here for the end of it even less and darts for the trail.

 

Killian is right behind her the second Carey approves of her complicated diplomatic plan. The fact is that that they simply are not equipped to handle whatever world-ending nonsense is building behind them. It's no fault of their own. They used their resources and got it going, but it is time to fucking vacate if they want to survive to vacation.  
  
The second Killian has a bit of cover, she yanks out her stone of farspeech and sets it as close to the right frequency as they can get out here in swamp central.  
  
"UM, HEY, DIRECTOR? I MEAN- LUCRETIA- DIRECTOR LUCRETIA-- WE HAVE A PROBLEM."

 

The stone crackles, and a series of voices scramble until Lucretia’s comes through loud and clear,  
  
“ _No_ , shut the fuc- I mean, _I WILL BE TAKING THIS CALL_ , we will discuss- _Killian_ , what’s going on there? I’m getting Avi to lock on to you both right now-“

 

"World ending shit! Necromancy! Explosions? Skeleton children! Maybe a demon god? Help-"  
  
Killian trips and fumbles the stone, catching it at the very last second.  
  
" _NOT_ A GREAT HONEYMOON GIFT BY THE WAY."

“I know, I’m sorry, we’re sending down- no, no, the cannons won’t be fast enough, _SOMEONE GET ME-_ ”  
  
The Stone fuzzes out and cuts off.

“I mean, I don’t _think_ the world’s gonna end, but this particular corner of it won’t look so great if-“ Carey cuts off as they round the corner and of _course_ of fucking **course** the elven kids are there, curled together and shaking.  


Killian screams in impatient fury and hoists both elf kids under her armpits. They don't have long to get the fuck out of dodge, because the sky starts to split open, the sun shaded with black feathers.  
  
"Bout goddamn fucking time, _ohhh,_ I'm going to give that nerd a piece of my mind, I swear-"  
  
She spits a curse and yanks Carey behind a lovely boulder when something-- two somethings-- rocket out of the sky.

 

Carey shoves the elf kids low and scrambles up the boulder to see what she can, which isn't much now that they're well into the trees. Mostly all she can hear is cawing and the feeling of her eardrums being pressed down without popping. Then the tension lifts....and she yelps and half scrambles half falls onto Killian again as the pressure **WHUMPHS** out again, shaking the trees around them, and sending one crashing down on top of their _nice and excellent boulder_.

 

"Which one is it? I'll wring his fuckin neck for not catching this earlier- this is WAY above our pay grade! Hey, you be fucking careful!" Killian catches her and falls to the shaking ground, somewhat relieved that she got there a few seconds before the tree did. The place is dangerous, but it might be worse if they try to move. She pulls the elf kids close and hunkers with her little clutch under the tree and kissable boulder.  
  
_"On my flank! Separate the two! Have you determined what patron it is?"_ A familiar and terrible accent echoes down the valley. It's petty and spiteful, but Killian thanks the stars that she at least gets to be in mortal danger _with_ the love of her life. She feels as though she may be allowed a bit of spite at the moment, and regardless, that never stopped her before.

 

_”Yeah, but, uh, you’re not really gonna like it-“_  
  
There’s another press of _magic_ against her inner ear, and Carey growls in discomfort.  
  
“Hey Kills? Love you....”  
  
There’s a scream that separates into two voices, and Carey thanks her lucky stars individually and by name they aren’t any closer.

 

"Love you too. If we don't make it to that beach, then that goth shithead is going to take us on an astral vacation."  
  
Another tree falls, writhing as the earth ripples and cracks where its roots used to be. It offers up a decent view of the battle -slash-argument happening in the sky above them.  
  
_"What the hell am I not going to like? Because I'm already not loving this, Barold."_  
  
Another unworldly shriek echoes among the pines, birds tearing through the air and straight through the boulder that used to be on top of the warlock like butter.

 

_”-Kay well, good news is that he’s no longer being fed power by his patron, the, uh, the Lord of the Hand most probably, because said patron is now, uh,  trapped in the mountain.”_  
  
There is a wail of a child in pain _pain **PAIN**_ that cuts across the forest, and if Carey weren’t busy shoving her face in the dirt, hands over her head trying to cut the noise out, she would have seen both figures flinch and drop lower.  
  
_”-Bad news is that he’s drawing power off his soul and hers instead. Sorry, boss.”_

 

_"We need to get that thing corralled as soon as possible. If it uses them up, this whole area could be destroyed. Hundreds of people live in this valley. I swear-"_  
  
Kravitz doesnt get to finish swearing, because something that used to be a boulder, now a void blob of _fear and danger_ knocks him out of the sky with a horrible explosion of feathers. The birds he summoned scatter, shooting out in all directions, screaming to herald the end of the world.  
  
Killian suddenly remembers the name of her god and starts using it both in vain and in desperate pleading prayer, covering as many of her bases as she can .

 

The wailing drops off, losing volume as it seems to fade into a whimper that Carey knows she will hear in her nightmares for years to come. There’s a beat of silence, then;  
  
      _**”NO-!”**_  
  
“ _Now_ he figures it out....” Carey blinks dirt out of her eyes and looks up in time to see the figure her eyes don’t want to focus on lifting up from a tiny- you know what? No, Carey doesn’t wanna THINK about that.  
  
The now sparking figure turns to the mountain and reaches for it;  
  
_**”YOU’LL PAY! YOU BROKE YOUR WORD!!!”**_

 

_"Barry, we need to go to plan F now. And fast."_ Kravitz pulls himself out of a Kravitz-shaped crater with as much dignity as he can muster, urgency taking priority. This is bad. This is so bad. _"Shut it down. We'll do a ward, lock it down properly, before there's a planar rift or a massacre-"_  
  
Killian holds tightly to her wife  and fears the worst and hopes for a future she can't even name. All she wants right now is to live, and that might be a tall order. Fucking warlocks, doing fucking necromancy, fucking bullshit magic fucking entitled assholes fucking ruining her honeymoon...

 

_”Got it, boss, just let me-“_  
  
There’s another press against Carey’s eardrums and the outside of the mountain, the very careful cave-in they’d made is torn apart, rocks flying over them as the figure that used to be Seth tears into the cave, screaming curses.  
  
Carey clings to Killian, frowning now. The cave wasn’t very big, from what they’d seen, and unless there was a bolt hole somewhere-  
  
“Hey _assholes!_ He’s _trapped_ in there! Whatever you’re gonna do, do it **NOW!!** ”

 

_"WE DON'T NEED ANY ADVICE, THANK YOU,"_ Kravitz yells down, but he turns on the cave anyway. He makes several complicated gestures at Barry, then explains the gestures when he looks confused, and the two of them draw closer to the hobbit hole.  
  
_"Trap it with a bubble shield, radiant."_ He pulls out something around his neck, probably a "holy" symbol of his queen, and starts.  
  
Killian pulls Carey back down.  
  
"Five gold they fuck up," she mutters, trying to pretend she's calm and not convincing herself.

“Am I betting for them not to? ‘Cause I don’t know if I’ll take that bet...”  
  
Barry is standing next to Kravitz and Carey feels her tail twitch at the power growing, which means she winces when the injured skin pulls. The elf boy whimpers when it hits him.  
  
“Sorry, hatchling....”  
  
A bubble stretches out from Barry and Kravitz, shimmering black, almost opaque, as the ground starts shaking again.

 

"How bout we bet against them and if they fuck up, they owe us 1,000 gold."

“I like that plan best...."

Killian flicks a glance to the reapers, the bubble growing at a crazy and honestly sort of gross speed, moving as if it's breathing, or maybe they're blowing the air into it. It finally envelops the whole cave, then rapidly sucks in, vacuum-sealing against the rocks. It puffs up with another explosion, somewhat muffled, then sucks in again, harder. A louder muffled noise comes out, pained and angry, and Kravitz and Barry step closer, working hard to keep the bubble down. Kravitz flickers back to skele-form, pushing all of his focus into maintaining this barrier.  
  
It takes Killian a second to recognize the other noise she hears among the explosions and shuddering et cetera, but then her ears pick it out-  
  
_"Fuck, fuck- fuck- fuck, come on, fuck, shit, balls-"_  
  
It's not exactly comforting.  
  
Carey feels her ruff starting to puff up again; panic fading, not able to maintain this long, leaving adrenaline and anger behind. This is all so STUPID and beyond the scope of their mission and she _refuses_ to die here. Cowering in her wife's (!!!!!) arms is better than cowering alone, but it's still _cowering_ and she doesn't-  
  
The bubble trembles....then expands swiftly, managing to keep the top of the mountain from exploding _very_ far, but the cave is suddenly open and the Thing That Used To Be Seth is in the middle of a whirlwind that tears boulders and trees up from the forest line, lashing at Kravitz and Barry.  
  
His figure is clearer now, holding a, uh.....yeah, that looks like a skull even at this distance and the size suggests a child, and he's staring into it as the edges of his figure are covered in small crackles of lightning.  
  
"Hey Kills? I wanna punch him."

"IN A FUCKING TORNADO?" Killian holds onto her and the kids as the unnatural wind picks up and all hell breaks loose. But. But.  


Here's the thing. Hell has been breaking loose and continues to break loose and she gets it. This is fucking shitty. They're ladies of _action_ , not bullshit cowardice. If some of their actions are ill-advised, so be it.  
  
"Fuck, you know what? Alright. Baby, you wanna fuckin punch him? You're gonna fuckin punch him." She already knows where this is going--she picks Carey up and gets ready to fling her.  
  
"I LOVE YOU," she shouts, partially because the tornado makes it very difficult to hear and partially because everyone needs to know and if no-longer-seth doesn't like pda, she's fucking alright with that. Kravitz and Barry both deserve a fate worse than this from what she's witnessed both of them get into.  
  
Not together. Well, not more than once.  
  
Whatever. She kisses her wife and gets ready to do the best catapult job of her life, so help her gods.

 "I LOVE YOU TOO!"  
  
Carey grabs her tail and wraps up into a ball, trusting Killian to aim her as best she can.  


Barry turns at their voices, clinging to his scythe in the wind and Carey briefly sees his eyes widen before she tucks her chin and closes her eyes.  
  
" _What the fuck are you-!_ "  
  
and then she is _flying_.

 

"THAT'S. MY. _WIFE!_ " Killian screams after she chucks her, yelling above the din and bullshit and magic and stupidity and punching the sky. There's no need to complicate all of this. They see a bad guy, they punch it. That's their creed, and they're sticking to it. Killian watches her perfect, lucky arc and takes no small satisfaction in the success of her aim, more than making up for earlier. It's not enough to kill him, of course, but the distraction is enough to give Kravitz an edge and launch a perfect attack that hopefully hopefully hopefully doesn't get Carey in the crossfire?????????

 

Flying through a tornado windstorm is not Carey's favorite thing to do ever now that she's tried it. Killian's launch pushed her into the wind and she's circling Not-Seth-Anymore and getting sand ground between her scales and trying to land feet first against flying boulders to bounce off them and not get _BRAINED_ and it's all very NOISY, is the thing.  
  
But she didn't take fifteen levels in Rogue for fuckin' NOTHING, and she sees her shot, lands on a boulder and flings herself at the skull Not-Seth-Anymore is staring into as he tears everything the FUCK up.  
She grabs it, digging her claws into the tiny thing she knows used to be Rill, and stares up into the Not Face of Seth.  
  
He's got a skull for a face and red flickering eyes and shit and he _howls_ when he realizes she's yanking on Rill's skull.  
  
      _**SHE DOES NOT BELONG TO YOU!**_  
  
" _She's not yours either, fuckface!_ She's _her own!_ "  
  
Hooking a claw into the eye socket frees up a fist to punch him. It burns a lot, but he lets go of the skull and screams, and she's flying through the air again, which wasn't on her list of 'Amazing Things to Do Twice'.

 

Killian imagines she should play wife-ball professionally, because she fucking catches Carey again. It's a hell of a relief, but also terrifying to see whatever the fuck that was _touch her_ . She needs a cleric asap. They need to stop fucking around here and smash that asshole to bits.  
  
"YOU DAMN NERDS BETTER FINISH THIS BEFORE I FINISH IT FOR YOU," she howls at the reapers, an empty but effective threat.  
  
Kravitz mage hands the kid skull into the air, dangling like bait, and anti-seth takes it, lunging right into his trap. Kravitz flattens him with another wave of weird dark energy that hurts Killian's ears.  
  
_"NOW, BARRY!"_

 

Barry darts in, his own hand swirling with energy that probably isn’t Raven Queen sanctioned, but means he can actually grip what’s left of Seth’s soul as he tears a portal to the Astral Plane and dives through.  
  
The portal closes up and the wind.

  
  
Stops.

  
  
The moment of relief before everything that was in the air clatters down is probably one of the best Carey’s ever had.  
  
The moment _after_ that, when the dust is done being kicked up and she’s still alive and clinging to Killian is _deffo_ a top five best moment.

 

Killian is already kissing her. Her ears haven't popped back yet and the world is still falling from the sky and the noise isn't over but they _survived this_ , despite all of the bullshit magic and necromancy and spooky scary fuckery. They lived. It's pretty romantic, considering how covered in blood-slash-dirt they are.  
  
"Let's get this show on the road," she calls, not about to let them waste any more of their precious newlywed time. "We have a honeymoon to catch. Either of you boys know healing magic? You gotta look at her tail."  
  
She's survival-giddy. It's hard to focus when all she can think about is Carey in her arms, happy to be alive and to be with her. Take that, warlock fuck.

 

Gay marriage saved the day.


	8. Give Me That Sweet, Sweet Lovin’ (fuck)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They get their (fuckin') honeymoon

Twelve hours, a sobbing elf kid reunion, a meeting with a cleric, a debriefing with Lucretia, and an apologetic portaling from Barry later, Carey was sprawled on a fuckhuge bed looking out over the ocean while Killian was ordering room service over the stone of farspeech hooked up next to the door.    
  
It was nice because neither of them were planning on putting on clothes any time soon.

 

It's so calm, comparatively. It's surreal. Calm and quiet and clean. It's one hell of a relief, but they know they'll be back at it soon. It's what they do. It's what they were made for. They just need to take a proper break, first.    
  
"Dessert and drinks are on the way," she says, flopping back on the bigass bed and watching Carey bounce. "Hm, what can we do with thirty minutes? Just you and me, no clothes, no mud, no world-ending warlocks or racist fuckheads or living skeletons.... Just you and me and the ocean and all of these goddamn rose petals." She lays on her side, giving Carey a proper look at her previous artistry of marks on Killians tits. That, at least, was lots of fun.    
  
"Any ideas, bride?"

 

Carey stretches, feeling the tight, new skin on her tail with satisfaction, and rolls over to give Killian a satisfied looking over.   
  
"Hmmm....ideas, ideas, ideas...."   
  
Scooting forward, she splays across Killian's front, enjoying the feel of her  _ clean _ and newly oiled scales against Killian's  _ clean _ soft skin, and flexes her claws lightly along Killian's shoulders.   
  
All curves and muscle, soft flesh over corded strength and she's  _ beautiful _ and Carey  _ loves _ her.   
  
"I like this? Only, like, adding in some fucking. Yeah, pretty sure that's a good addition."

 

"I do think we've earned a little fucking, don't you?" She smiles and kisses Carey, nuzzles her so affectionately. The relief and adrenaline hangover from their terrible adventure is still filling her with the desire to carry her off and keep her safe, to not let her go. Carey would call it nesting, and Killian is down for that. Great big beds make great pillow nests, and pillow nests are great for cuddle-fucking. Carey is hers, all hers, and Killian is all Carey's, and they're MARRIED and ALIVE and SAFE and  _ CLEAN _ . That requires a bit of celebration.    
  
"Think I promised to make you come over and over again, didn't I?"

 

“Ooooh, that sounds  _ baller _ .” Carey nuzzle kisses her way along Killian’s jaw, flicking her tongue at the sensitive tip of her ear.    
  
“Good news is: the toy survived all that. Bad news is I don’t really wanna move, so I  _ guess _ you’re just gonna hafta do that the old fashioned way.”    
  
Her tail slides over Killian’s hip, draping along her very nice ass and Carey squeezes against her tighter, closer, just wanting the feel of HER! WIFE! Everywhere.

 

Killian doesn't worry about getting agitated too fast. They have all the time in the world to do this, to love each other and please and squeeze and tease each other. She strokes Carey's spines, her soft, freshly cleaned and moisturized scales, her sweet cheeks, plural. She's perfect. She's so, so perfect.    
  
"I can do that." She pulls her close, giving her room to smash her face between Killian's tits, where it belongs. Squeezes her fresh, sensitive new tail. So many opportunities. So many avenues to celebrate being alive. She can't help but smile, big and goofy and warm and happy, so happy. They made it.

 

Carey wiggles in delight at Killian’s touch, nuzzling her tits, and wrapping her tongue around her nipples because she CAN and it makes Killian pull in a breath.    
  
She stretches, languid, feeling Her Wife’s strong hands kneading and stroking at all her favorite spots to touch, and curls her tail tighter around the back of Killian’s thigh. Flicking the tip of it, she can feel all the heat coming off her and it’s  _ good _ it’s  _ wonderful _ .    
  
“Killiiiiiiian.... I love you. Amazing.”

 

Carey knows how to push all of her buttons. It's almost adorably infuriating, how easy that tongue gets to her. But on the flip side, that tongue is hers now. Forever. Along with the sweet amazing sexy person attached to it.    
  
"Fuck, you're getting fast." She squeezes Carey's tail, the new skin soft and sensitive to the touch. She had been so scared earlier, unsure if it might infect Carey or permanently mar her, especially since dragonborn tails are so vital, but here they are, safe and sound and sexy. "You're gonna drive me wild, you minx."

  
Her fingers find her soft spots, the delicate part of her belly, the insides of her legs. She's perfect. She's absolutely perfect.    
  
"Do you really want me to take the lead? You look raring to go." She kisses down her neck, not waiting for a reply.

 

Carey squeaks, squirming against Killian’s fingers and soft, pliant lips.    
  
“Yes-  _ yes _ , I want my amazing gorgeous sexy wife to kiss me all over and fuck me,  _ GOSH _ , Killian-“    
  
She nuzzles at Killian’s tits again before moving to Killian’s collarbone, kissing and nibbling wherever she can reach. Her claws are retracted, but she still runs the flat parts of them along Killian’s sides and back, feeling goosebumps raising after and giggling at the reaction.

 

Killian shivers and immediately retaliates, sucking big circles against Carey's softer scales. Her tusks accidentally-on-purpose press insistently against her, allowing for just the right amount of pressure without actual pain. Maybe it'll bruise, but Carey won't mind.    
  
She also can't complain too much about the hand Killian slips between her legs, just applying a bit of friction so far.    
  
Kilian grins.    
  
"I guess you're in luck, if you keep buttering me up like that. You oughta know how susceptible I am to flattery."

 

"Oh noooooooo, it's your  _ one weakness _ ...." Carey pushes her hips against Killian's hand, ruff starting to flare. "Sexy muscled wife who throws like a  _ champion _ and has the best cuddles- How'm I doing?"   
  
She growls softly, kiss-biting at Killian's jaw as she feels her  **wife!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!** leaving tiny bruises all over so everyone who ever sees them will know how Fucking AWESOME Killian is at making her feel amazing.

 

"You're killing me, is what you're doing. You're killing your wife." she deadpans, but immediately splits back into a big grin. Carey is so beautiful. It's silly to resist taking her apart piece by piece. Killian will get hers, but first, a bit of fun.    
  
"You like that? I didn't know if you had enough bruises from our adventure to show off..."  She rubs the callouses on her hands gently over Carey's sensitive spots, not seeing but feeling her open up and just reveling in how easy it is, how much Carey loves her, loves this, wants her. She's perfect. She's so, so good. "Dunno if you'll get the chance, though. I have a feeling we'll spend a looong time in this room. But you didn't want us to put any clothes on, anyway."    
  
She sits up a bit and pulls Carey into her lap, where she'll have even better access. Curls her tail around with a bit of a squeeze, loving the little way she reacts.    
  
"You smell so good, babe..." she mumbles, muffled as she nuzzles Carey's neck again. So hard to stay away.

 

Carey’s growl moves up in pitch, her hips bucking harder against Killian’s hand and her head going back to allow her wife (HER. WIFE.) better access along her neck.    
  
Her ruff flares under the attention, showing sensitive skin under. Curling her tail around Killian’s hand, she squeezes back, growl turned into a whine.    
  
“So do- do you, all-“ her tongue flicks out, tasting the air, “all sexy and fierce and you’ve got  _ me _ all over you and-“    
  
She cuts herself off with another growl, rocking against Killian’s hand and tilting her head to run her tongue over Killian’s shoulder, neck, behind her ear, and up the tip, which she bites very gently.

 

Killian swallows a moan and almost laughs at the battle of who gets to kiss whom, especially as she fights to put her lips to that fucking choice bit under Carey's ruff and the cute noise she always makes when it's targeted. Every little bit of her is just  _ so good _ , totally irresistible.    
  
The more aroused Carey gets, the more she opens up, enough for Killian to tease the sensitive ring of little nubs circling her entrance. Killian can already taste ozone, and it's satisfying to know that she got Carey worked up so quickly. And maybe also that she wasn't going to lose all the feeling in her tongue, this time. Later, maybe, after most of the charge had been expended, but at the same time, it's hard to resist tasting her...getting her all over her face... adding the imprints of her tusks to the swath of bruises made in love....    
  
"Should I?" She catches herself and communicates, before they both forget how to make words. Teasing her fingers at the edge, right where Carey can have them if she wants them. Killian already knows the answer, but every time they check in, her heart absolutely swells. She figures Carey's does too.

 

“ _ Please _ -“ Carey’s tail squeezes at Killian’s hand and forearm, her head going back so her wife ( _!!! _ ) can get at the fun spots under her ruff.    
“ _ PLEASE _ please _ please _ , K-Kills babe love-“    
  
Her claws are flexing and she deliberately takes a breath and turns them palm out, dragging her rougher scales along Killian’s lower back.

 

"If you insist," Killian says, all casual-like, as if she isn't pressing her own thighs together and trying to  _ hold on, be patient _ . She looks so good like this, Killian could eat her up.    
  
She moves one finger inside, thumb still playing with the most sensitive bits, feeling the electricity building up as her fingers get slick in no time. She adds another, stroking the slow way she always starts out, careful no matter what she says, because she loves her wife so fucking much she couldn't allow any harm to come to her, even accidentally, and then starts moving her fingers a little faster, sucking at Carey's sensitive neck and squeezing her tail with her other hand, for balance and reassurance and complete, satisfied affection.    
  
"Beautiful, perfect, Yes, Carey, good- yes-"

 

“Yesssssss,” Carey hisses and squirms, small whines climbing out of the back of her throat. She’s pressing her hands into Killian’s back, claws flexing in the air, and it’s  _ good _ and she doesn’t want to hurt Killian wouldn’t do it for a million gold and to save the world  _ again _ but she needs-    
  
“K- Kills, your hair, it’s cool? I need- claws, please can I- grab,  _ please- _ ”

 

"Go for it." That desperate tone is so  **good** she can't resist, squirming against the bed for at least a little stimulation. She has to wait. She can get Carey and then Carey can get her back, it's fine. And it is, it really is, because she's so perfect with her back arched like that, and her ruff all out and her legs spread to give Killian room and oh, Killian wants to taste her so bad but first things first. She moves faster, hitting several of her little nubs every time she moves, and Killian doesn't know what exactly that overwhelming sort of stimulation feels like but she can sure fucking  _ imagine _ .

 

The minute she’s given permission, Carey’s claws turn and grip into Killian’s hair, twisting the thick strands around her claws so she can flex them, humming breathily as she tugs. Her hips are bucking hard against Killian’s hand and her  _ wife _ (YES!) is so perfect and knows exactly how to make her happy and she’s going to eat her out until she’s yelling so loud the walls shake and-    
  
Static arcs up Killian’s hand and Carey is hissing, ruff flared out, and a deep blue flush running along her neck and belly.

 

Killian moans when the electricity hits her, just that right combination of watching her  **wife** lose control because of her and the physical clench and release of the minor shock. Being magic electricity, it hits different than the regular sort that shithead Miller kid was working with, instead dancing beautifully across her skin and setting her nerves alive.    
  
"Yes, good, Carey you're so good...Give me that good shit, peach." She licks her fingers in full view of Carey, loving that taste, the tingle of arcane energy pumping her blood that much faster, the soft noises she makes when she lets go.   
  
"Try and get me to scream louder," she whispers against Carey's ruff, then kisses it almost too-gently.

 

Carey trembles as she comes down, growling a high pitched whine as Killian licks her fingers clean, and darting forward to lick into her mouth, kissing sloppily against Killian's tusks.   
  
"F _ uck _ in- GORGEOUS, Kills, gonna.....gonna make you come so good just as- as fuckin' soon as my legs work again, 'cause you've almost godsdamned got me limp."

 

"I'll be waiting," she says, almost sing-song, and she lets them fall back onto the bed, wrapping her arms around Carey and covering her with kisses.    
  
"I'm starving. You think they're gonna show soon? Bet you they get us at a 'bad time'."

 

It's hard not to giggle when she's feeling loose and staticky, so Carey doesn't bother with trying not to. She wiggles under the attention, tail curling over Killian's thigh and between her legs in a loose tease.    
  
"So like.....my tongue already  _ in _ you bad time, or right before I  _ start _ bad time?"

 

"Hmmmmmmm. Well. In my opinion." She can't help but giggle when Carey does, something she almost always reserves for private.  It's absolutely delicious to see her so happy.

"In, in my opinion, the better bad time is a good bad time. I mean. Absolutely your tongue, for one. And as much as I can have, honestly, please please make me feel good?"

 

Carey’s tail tightens along Killian’s thigh, curling the softer inner part along where she can  _ feel _ heat and wet radiating and it’s  _ delicious _ .    
  
“Awww, Kills, you ask so nice and everything-“ she licks a strip up Her Wife’s (eee) neck and starts wiggling down her body, unwilling to give up much contact. 

 

"Fuck- Carey- shit-" Killian can't string two words together already. She's in for a ride. "Don't-fucking tease me- come on, please,"   
  
The weird adorable little shimmy she does is just. Too much to bear. Killian wants to swoop her up and kiss the shit out of her, except for how that's not where she wants Carey's face.    
  


Carey’s grinning face as she looks up at Killian from between her thighs,

“Ask so nice and taste so good up THERE, you gotta- gotta be  _ wonderful _ down here....”

  
"HOW ABOUT YOU FIND OUT."

 

“Ooooh, got you  _ begging _ and I haven’t DONE anything ~” Carey gives her another toothy grin and licks her thigh. Only a little teasing though, she’s not in a mood to draw this out.    
Nosing along Killian’s hips, she settles herself on her belly, tail flipping in happy anticipation,    
  
“Hey, when we get home we should think about ropes for your feet, whatcha think?”

 

"You can do anything you want to me as long as you get on and do it." Killian's frustrated, but so, so, so, so, so in love, too. Carey won't fuck with her too long, she knows how impatient she is. She can't even think about it, but. Wow. She's getting ambitious. And. Ropes....toys...Carey must be planning one hell of an adventure.    
  
"You perfect clever thing." Frustration and affection twine in her voice the closer Carey gets to home.

 

Carey flares her ruff at her, grinning, and noses around her pretty pretty labia, all petals unfolded and flushed against Killian’s skin.    
  
But teasing is only fun if both are enjoying it, so she wraps her tongue around Killian’s clits and hums, claws kneading gently at her  **wife’s** thighs.

 

"Fuck-"    
  
Her back arches beautifully, her hands clutching at the already mussed sheets. Carey is so good, so good at taking her right apart. Two completely incompatible creatures, so completely in love, so completely imperfectly perfect for each other. She loses her grip on common and begins praising her WIFE, her BETROTHED, her BELOVED, in orcish, the secret sort of things that no 'outsiders' are supposed to know. Soft, loving, praising words that would never appear in an orcish dictionary, the illusion of a beastial race of evil warriors too strong. But this, this betrays that image, showing a love just as bright as any else. Maybe even stronger. Killian would have died for Carey in a heartbeat yesterday, and any day forward. She's even more in love now. They've promised their lives and hearts to one another, and it shines through like this.

 

Carey’s ruff flares harder, pressing against Killian’s flexing thighs as she croons into her, working her tongue along the petals of her labia and finally inside where she knows her Best Beloved Wife wants it.    
  
She can’t use her claws like someone with only fingernails might, but tracing the backs of them along the beautiful soft parts that are making Killian sing in beautiful words is good enough, just perfect.    
  
She doesn’t know the meaning of most of what Killian is saying, but the tone is all she needs because her wife LOVES her and she LOVES her wife and it’s amazing.

 

Killian would happily give her a language lesson, but at the moment she's busy holding herself together. She's so close after all that build up, watching Carey, feeling the bite of her electricity, her careful claws, her perfect face when she does something just right. Her beautiful long tongue.   
  
"More-" she spits out. "Please?" she adds.

 

Carey rubs her cheek against Killian’s thigh and licks up harder into her, tail flopping back and forth on the bed. Nuzzling her clits and licking is hard to keep a rhythm going, so she brings her claws up to trace gently  _ gently _ between them, running the sensitive part at the claw base along her  **wife’s** (!!!!!) labia.    
  
She’d love to babble all the things she’s thinking in that moment, how much she loves (!!!!!!!!!) Killian so fucking much, but she can’t articulate more than a low humming growl, back claws flexing against the sheets and ruff flicking.

 

Carey is so fucking cute and so fucking in love, Killian can just feel it radiating off of her. She's perfect, perfect, perfect and Killian is in love and feelin' great and ready for more and bursting with affection and arousal and a moan bursts out of her, ridiculously loud, heralding the end, and she comes with a bellow right as a timid knock comes on the door.    
  
She doesn't hear it, completely blissed out, floating in another realm of ducks and swans and floating cartoon hearts and leaves Carey to fend for herself while Killian melts right into the sheets and presumably to the molten core of the planet, where she will feed the fires with her undying love.    
  
  


And then dessert.

**Author's Note:**

> Friendly comments are always appreciated!! Let us know what you liked!


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